For The Love Of Joey
by bluesky5678
Summary: Christian Grey, Dom Extraordinaire and multi-billionaire, accustomed to only the best of everything, finally meets his perfect sub.


Hello again. Here is story #4. Thank you for your kind thoughts on #3 The Beginning.

I got more complaints about the lack of chapters and more expressions of gratitude that I finished it. You know, the old 'damned if you do and damned if you don't' . Anyway, I've barely gotten the hang of submitting so…One person told me that some people refuse to read stories without opportunities to review chapters…it being a "matter of principle". This confuses me and I wrote to the reviewer asking for an explanation. Thus far, I've not received a reply but I am fascinated by her comment. If anyone else has one, please let me know at my PM. Why is this a "matter of principle"?

I started reading a story this morning because it looked interesting and was pretty well written. Unfortunately, its last update was a year ago…sigh. The start of a story is fun to write but one always gets bogged down in the middle which is why I think stories do not get finished. It takes push and discipline to keep going….another reason why I finish. If I get bogged down and can't keep going, at least I haven't left my readers hanging.

Also, thanks to other writers I've so enjoyed. Keep those chapters coming….though perhaps a little faster since I forget and then have to nearly start all over. Also, it is hard to get lost in a story that comes in dribbles and drabs…another reason I prefer completed stories.

Once again, thank you for your lovely reviews. You are very kind.

And, once again thanks to E.L. James for her characters and settings.

Christian Grey, Dom Extraordinaire and multi-billionaire, accustomed to only the best of everything, finally meets his perfect sub.

P.S. This is not, repeat not, a new story. I first published it in April of 2018 but was never fully satisfied with it. I found grammatical errors, spelling errors and bits and pieces of story that I'd used in other stories or with which I was simply displeased. So, I rewrote some of it. Sorry to disappoint readers and surely am not attempting to appear prolific .

FOR THE LOVE OF JOEY

A MEETING WITH A TWIST

Damn. Was there anything more boring that a spreadsheet? Yes, thought Christian Grey, tycoon extraordinaire, his last few submissives. It was a rainy, gray day in Seattle…of course. Elena kept sending him petite brunettes who'd all begun to blend into the blandness of a day in Seattle. It wasn't entirely Elena's fault. He'd been a Dom for six years and had particular taste in women…small with dark hair. As he looked around him, it seemed the world was filled with tall blondes.

Grey wasn't a fool, unaware of why he preferred to beat up little brown haired women nor did he apologize for it. Some people dealt with their demons with drink, some with gambling, some with drugs. His demon was a woman who'd died a quarter of a century ago yet she and her pimp still tormented him every night in his dreams and left his chest filled with lead and dread instead of a heart. And it wasn't as though he went looking on the streets for the women who looked like her and slashed their throats. Oh, no, he was quite civilized about it. He allowed _his_ former dominatrix to find women who _liked_ to be beaten and then had delivered them to his door.

He was forthright about his needs, wrote up contracts and even provided objects of gratitude…cars, jewelry, clothes, apartments, educations. His subs liked the gifts and they liked the sensual thrills of his Red Room. Trouble was that they usually came to like him, too. The last several subs were dismissed because they wanted to be his girlfriends. He didn't do girlfriends. They loved him. He didn't do love. They wanted more. He didn't do more or children or houses with white picket fences. He did canes and whips, handcuffs, floggers and rope.

Thus, it was that Elena had been unable to find a new sub for her pet for almost a month and Christian was getting antsy. Jerking off in the shower had lost its appeal when he was 14 which was when he let his mother's beautiful blonde friend and neighbor talk him into a life of BDSM. God knows the beatings Elena dealt him were terrible but the fucking was incredible. Elena knew what she was doing and she knew where to touch him. He grew out of the haphephobia he'd suffered from most of his life as a result of the pimp's cigarette burns and the beatings but he never grew out of the delights of the Red Room.

He found that not having a girlfriend distracting him with demands and emotions left him with powers of concentration that resulted in excellent academic outcomes and, later, the power to devote completely to building his company. He shuddered to think what little he'd have been able to accomplish if he'd had to give even a quarter of his time to a wife and children plus the emotional contribution. No, the way he had structured his life was perfect and he was basically a content man. His happiness was sealing a deal.

One day Elena called to say that she had found a new girl for him. This one, she warned, is a bit different from the others. First, she will accept no gifts. Christian pointed out that in the contract subs are to accept graciously and with appreciation any gift he wishes to bestow. This pleases him. Sorry, said Elena…no gifts. The girl will, however, accept $40,000 a week as compensation. Yes, said Elena, she realized that that seems like quite a "salary" but the girl considers this to be an exchange of services and compensation…. like any job.

Secondly, with the exception of fisting and ball gags, the girl has no limits. Well, that certainly sounded good to Christian. He'd never understood fisting. After all he liked a tight fit and fisting was usually the practice of sadists. Thirdly, the girl wished to have no relationship with her Dom beyond that which takes place in the red room. Unlike every other girl, she does not wish to engage in conversation or exchanges of personal experiences, history or thoughts. There will be no threats of attachment or emotional neediness.

Christian is intrigued. This sounds like a simple exchange of services for a weekly check. The lack of chitchat would be welcome. Can she cook? he asks, since Gail is off for the weekends and he expects that of his subs, although it is rare. Yes, Elena explains, as long as he has done the necessary shopping for his expectations, she can cook.

A silent, no limits, can cook sub…sounds perfect. One more thing, Elena says, the girl cannot arrive until 8:30 pm on Fridays and would like 2 hours to herself on Saturday at a time of his choosing as long as it is between the hours of 8 am and 8 pm. Hmm….well, that would be okay. So, it is agreed that this girl will be sent round that evening to become acquainted with Escala and her new boss and sign a contract.

That night, the penthouse is rather dark, save for a few sconces, the light from the kitchen and his office. At 8:30 precisely, the elevator pings and Christian goes out to greet his new playmate. She is standing by the doors, the light from the sconces shining down on her lovely brown hair with its auburn highlights. She holds her head high but keeps her eyes down.

Christian invites her to follow him to his study. She stands quietly by his desk as he slides the NDA toward her for her signature followed by the contract. She quickly signs the NDA and then, in a small voice, asks permission to speak. He concurs and she says that she would like to carefully read the contract before signing. He agrees and invites her to sit. She is wearing a form- fitting gray dress with a belt and black heels. It is clear that she is small and quite shapely along with beautiful legs. Her long brown hair is glossy and hangs down over her face as she studies the contract. She reaches into her bag for a pen which she uses to cross out vaginal and anal fisting, ball gags and the acceptance of gifts. Under gifts, she writes a weekly salary of $40,000.

Christian clears his throat. "Ms. Steele, I've agreed to your compensation demand but would still like to present you with gifts, on occasion…particularly the car, as it is important to your safety."

"I understand the standards of those gifts you wish to give and they are quite generous. Since you are already giving me $40,000 a week, I'm afraid I do not understand your need to gift me further. Moreover, I do not wish to receive that which I do not need nor deserve. I already appreciate your agreeing to the salary compensation and hope that I honor your standards for that amount."

She changes the hours to those discussed with Elena and returns the contract to Christian. All this time she has not raised her eyes. He signs, she signs.

"It is only 9 pm., Mr. Grey, Sir. Would you like to begin tonight?"

He is surprised, especially since Ms. Steele seems tired but she insists that she is fine and will feel undeserving of this week's compensation if they skip this evening.

He leads her up the stairs and unlike most subs, she seems to take no notice of the grandeur of his tower in the clouds. He shows her first the subs room and tells her that she can decorate it anyway she wishes.

"It's fine as is, Sir," she replies.

Strange, he thinks. Every other sub painted, wallpapered, changed the furniture, drapes and carpet.

And then he shows her the playroom. She again shows no reaction to anything. She excuses herself and as he stands perplexed, waiting, she returns wearing a robe. She inquires as to whether he prefers her to be wearing panties or nothing. He replies that he prefers nothing. She agrees and removes her panties, tucking them into the pockets of her robe.

She then removes the robe, hanging it on the door hook, and assumes the sub position, kneeling, sitting back on her heels, and resting her hands on her thighs while upturned. Then she is quiet. He excuses himself to change into his Red Room jeans and returns to find her as he left her. He is strangely nervous with her. Perhaps it's because at this point, new subs are usually chattering away. He considers her for a moment. Then he asks her how she would care to be addressed. She replies that should he find it necessary to speak a name, he may call her ' 'Ms. Steele' or simply Steele.

She clearly wants a strictly professional relationship.

For the next hour, he binds her into a tight ball with leather strapping and paddles her ass until it is far pinker than he usually goes for, followed by fucking her hard and fast. Then, breathless, he rests sitting on the bed until he hears a small noise and realizes that she is speaking to him.

"Sir, red," he leaps to his feet and swiftly unbinds her from the various leather straps.

"I apologize, Sir. The position was interfering with my diaphragm and making it difficult to breathe." It is then that he notices that she is beet red and gasping hard.

Then he hangs her from the ceiling, allowing her to stand on her toes while he flogs her front and back. He moves her unto his cross and beats her with a belt until his arm wears out. Never once does she call out yellow or red. She utters not a sound. Finally, he spread eagles her on the bed with ropes tying her to the posts, blindfolds her and then fucks her as hard and relentlessly as possible. Only then does he feel full release. Only then does he feel that he had truly beaten the crack whore. And not once has Ms. Steele spoken or made a sound. It's as if he has beenpounding on a doll. Perhaps if he had given her an orgasm **.**

So, he licks, sucks and nibbles her delicate nub while he uses his fingers to seek out and stimulate her g-spot. She does come but he only knows because she arches her back and breathes heavily. He realizes how badly he wanted to hear her scream….perhaps his appellation 'Sir' as his other subs had done. It was satisfying.

"Go to your room and I'll be in shortly to rub crème on your back and ass. Then I'll run you a soothing bath. I have several healing oils," he offers.

"Thank you, Sir. I will tend to my own aftercare." Her voice is firm but not stern.

"Will you be needing me later tonight, Sir?" she asks. Again! How much can this woman take?

"No, please get some rest. I usually have my breakfast around 9 am."

"Of course, Sir…good night, then." He watches. She seems to glide down the hallway.

Aftercare used to be his subs favorite time. Time when Christian took care of them while this woman patiently and politely refused. So, she went off to her room and he went downstairs to his own. He was befuddled but thrilled. That had been, without doubt, the most satisfying BDSM experience of his life. This woman wanted nothing, gave everything. She was the perfect sub. Please don't fall let her fall in love with me, he pleaded to the gods of BDSM.

And she didn't. She was always prompt, quiet, spoke little except to consistently refuse his attempts to apply aftercare. Except for preparing his meals, meals that were increasingly delicious, she spent the entire weekend either in the Red Room or in the sub room. He peeked in now and again. She was always asleep.

WEEKEND #3

On Saturday, he woke to a delicious aroma. When he passed the staircase on his way to the kitchen, he was startled to find a grungy-looking fellow lying on his back with his hands and legs hogtied. The man was partially conscious and groaning.

Steele was in the kitchen quietly cooking. When she heard Christian enter, she asked him if he knew the whereabouts of the toaster.

"Uh, lower cabinet, right side of the range." He watched as she bent over and marveled at her perfect ass. She was wearing a pair of white yoga pants and a white t-shirt and her hair in a tousled pile on top of her head. No makeup, pink cheeks and lovely as a rose. He'd been staring at her as she hung from the ceiling carabiners for three weekends now and his amazement at her beauty only grew. He had many much more beautiful women, as assessed by society, women who could have been Victoria Secret Angels, but they now seemed plain to him. He was so enchanted that he almost forgot about the hogtied man on the floor.

"Uh, Steele, there is a man on the foyer floor….hogtied. Any thoughts?" he inquired.

"Yes, I was here when he came creeping through past the kitchen, holding a gun with a silencer. His intent seemed untoward so I whacked him with the iron skillet. Would you like to have French Toast with egg whites only or including the yoke? I hope this fellow isn't one of yours. He isn't wearing a suit so….."

"Where is the gun?" asked Christian.

"Oh, I kicked it into the nook behind the stairs. What would you like to drink?"

"Juice and a small cup of decaf, thank you," replied Christian.

"You tied him up?"

"Rope from the laundry room, sir."

"Did you call the police?" he asked.

"No, Sir. I thought that you might prefer to have your breakfast before all the commotion began."

"That's thoughtful of you," noted Christian, realizing that his other subs would have run around screaming, hiding behind him and having conniption fits. Nothing upsets this woman.

The entire time she kept her eyes down. He'd noted on her bio that her eyes were blue. He didn't recall ever having a blue eyed brunette sub. One of them had green eyes but those turned out to be contact lens. Oh, well, subs were not supposed to look their masters in the eye anyway.

At this point the night security, Reynolds, ran in. Well, remarked Christian snidely, here comes the cavalry… who had fallen asleep. The question was how the intruder came by the codes to the 20th floor.

Christian ate his breakfast and then called the police.

"Ms. Steele, have you eaten?" She answered in the affirmative but somehow he didn't believe her. Her business.

"In that case, why don't you dress for your outing before the police arrive," Christian suggested.

Ms. Steele nodded and climbed the stairs while Grey unabashedly admired her rear view.

Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived, retrieved the gun and confirmed Ms. Steele's story. She sat, back straight, on the living room couch, with Christian standing behind her while she answered the officer's questions. Christian noted with interest that the policeman doing the questioning seemed spellbound, unable to take his eyes off Ms. Steele. When she got up to leave, he walked her to the elevator and offered her a ride to wherever she was going. She must have declined because he stood staring at the doors as they closed.

Another officer questioned Christian. Who, he asked, knew the codes for the 20th floor besides the security personnel, Elena Lincoln and family members? No one, said Christian, not thinking of Ms. Steele.

She returned exactly 2 hours later and after several minutes he found her waiting on her knees in the playroom. Another satisfying session and Christian released her to rest until dinner. When he later entered the kitchen, he noted with humor that there no bound bodies and she replied quite seriously that yes sir, no one had broken in since this morning. With eyes down, she served his requested dinner of Chicken Marsala, a salad and wine. When he asked her to eat with him, she hesitated on the grounds that sharing a meal was quite personal and besides, she had already eaten.

Then she said that he should merely knock on her door and she would be in the playroom in 2 minutes. After dinner, he worked a while and then knocked on her door. 2 minutes later, she was on her knees, awaiting his instructions. Again, he worked her hard. Four hours of what many might call torture. She uttered not a word. She was, in fact, so quiet that twice he enquired as to her well-being. She merely replied, good, sir.

When he'd worn himself out, he left her shackled to the cross and sat on the sofa, watching her. She did not raise her head, she did not move. He watched her and noted again that her body was lovely. She was also covered neck to ankles with the markings he'd left on her. He'd fucked her standing, lying down, and bent over. Rarely had she given any indication of response. He released her for the night.

When he looked in on her later, she was lying on her bed, in her robe, on top of the covers. It appeared that she'd simply collapsed there. She was so unconscious, she was unaware that he was applying arnica cream. Then he pulled the covers back, removed her robe and covered her up.

In the morning, he woke later than usual, again to the smell of breakfast cooking. She was, he concluded, an excellent cook and, possibly, a robot. She thanked him when he complimented her cooking skills and told him that he would find her in the playroom. She also thanked him for his aftercare but again reiterated that it was unnecessary. This time he replied that as her Dom it was his decision. She nodded, of course, Sir. May I be excused, Sir?

This time, he stopped her. "The police asked who had the codes to the elevator. I forgot that you do. You didn't happen to mention the codes to anyone, did you.?

For the first time, she raised her eyes to him. Blazing blue fire that nearly knocked him on his ass. "Of course, no implication implied, Ms. Steele. I didn't mean to imply…."Christian backpedaled in a blur.

Immediately, Ms. Steele again lowered her eyes. "Forgive me, Sir. Your question was an innocent inquiry and I was too sensitive. No, Sir, my memory is often poor and so I've written the code in barely visible ink on a pocket inside my bag which is always with me. It is only in the elevator on the 19th floor that I check for the number."

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Steele. After all, it was you who captured the intruder. I'm sorry to have insulted you," Christian apologized.

"Not at all, Sir. It was a question you had every right to ask and I overreacted. I will meet you in the playroom in 2 minutes, Sir," answered Ms. Steele.

Whoa! Christian thought. Those eyes! No wonder the officer was gob smacked. Grey found himself to be hard as a steel rod after one glance. He wanted to see them again.

When he finished his coffee, he gathered his wits and headed off to change into his blue jeans.

As he entered the room from behind her, it bothered him to see the welts and markings he'd left. He wondered why he'd never before noticed those on his other subs. Perhaps they'd called out safe words before he'd hurt them that badly? 'Hurt them'… those words had never before entered his mind. Why now?

He told her that he'd was tired and not in the mood this morning and that she could go to her room. She seemed disturbed and asked if she had done something to earn his disapproval. He told her that it had nothing to do with her. He was simply tired. He reminded her that she was to leave at 1:00 pm, that her check would be on the dining room table and that he would expect her at 8:30 the next Friday night.

When he heard the elevator ping at exactly 1:00, he immediately switched his computer screen to watch her leave. The minute she entered the elevator she removed her stilettoes and donned sneakers. Then she sank to the floor in an exhausted heap. She slumped against the wall until the elevator reached the main floor and then, with effort and the bar around the car, she lifted herself to her feet.

When she left the building, she began walking to the south. He noted on her bio that she lived north of Escala. A few minutes after that his computer notified him that $40,000 had been transferred from his account to the account of A. R. Steele at an ATM a few blocks up. What was south of Escala? Well, the Rodeo Drive of Seattle, for one. Perhaps she was going shopping. He'd noticed that her clothes were clean and well-kept but he knew the difference between J.C. Penny and Neiman Marcus.

The top Seattle salons were also in that area. He placed a quick call to Elena to ask if Anastasia Rose had been in. No, replied Elena, she'd never been a customer. Did he want to make an appointment for her? Was he tired of this one? On the contrary, it had been another satisfying weekend. The contract would continue. He heard disappointment in Elena's voice. Curious.

Aside from shopping areas and salons he knew of nothing to the south but his mother's hospital,Seattle General. So, where was she going? It occurred to him that she might be visiting someone in one of the fancy buildings such as he lived in but it wouldn't be another Dom, would it? No, impossible. Their contract was exclusive. At least it damn well better be. He became angry and ordered one of his men to follow her. She had only just left so it was no problem for Sawyer to catch up to her in his black Mercedes. He reported back that she had bypassed all the stores, was now bypassing the apartment buildings. A few minutes later he reported that she had gone into Seattle General. Should he follow? No, no. she was probably just visiting a friend.

DINNER WITH THE FAMILY

SOME BACKGROUND: A year or so earlier, Christian had grown quite tired of the constant subterfuge required to live his secret life. He did not wish to publicize his BDSM lifestyle but it isolated him from his family, whom he loved. Elena, his ex-mentor and current close friend of his mother, had convinced him that his family would reject him and remove their love should they discover 'the monster' he really was. But, as it was, he rarely saw them and all talk was superficial. Elliot did try constantly to connect as he and Christian had once been close.

Christian came to a point where he believed that the portended consequences of the truth could not be any worse than the current state of disconnection with his family. If they hated him and disowned him, he wouldn't see them much less than he did now.

So, calling on all his inner courage, he went to dinner and bomb shelled his family. He simply said that he knew that their current relationship was many bad things: disappointing, disconnected, hurtful, cold….and so on. He would like to tell them the reason, which had nothing to do with them. However, they chose to take the news, he would accept.

With all eyes on him, except for his little sister, Mia, who was in Paris at a culinary institute, he revealed his secret: for several years he had been a practicing Dominant, enlisting willing women to be his submissives. He explained the role of the submissive. He noted the wince on his mother's face when he mentioned beatings and rough sex. He said that he took care of his subs as was his responsibility and that he'd had perhaps 15 subs over the years. He said it was the only way he could have sex when he suffered from touch and that, despite his gradual healing from that phobia, he continued and enjoyed BDSM. He did not want a relationship and was not gay. Did anyone have any questions?

Elliot leapt right in with a request to see the Red Room. Christian consented. Carrick inquired into the legality of such actions. Christian assured him that BDSM was practiced throughout the world by people of every description, including lawyers, he smiled and that yes, it was legal…. though not generally accepted by society. Thus, the secrecy.

Grace was concerned about his health. He assured her that every sub he contracted with was thoroughly vetted in every way, including for STDs. They were all on the Depo shot, administered by a private doctor who often came to the penthouse. Still, he wore condoms because he knew that antibiotics, illness and other factors could interfere with the effectiveness of the shot and because, he nodded to Carrick, he didn't trust these women to not attempt a pregnancy in order to establish a permanent relationship with him.

His family had more questions. He even admitted that he was at least partially motivated by his hatred of his crack whore/prostitute mother. They were very concerned for him but comforted that he chose to be honest with them. They assured him that his sexual lifestyle and their love for him had nothing to do with each other. They even laughed that he was actually more committed than Elliot, their beloved elder son who was nonetheless known as the man whore of Seattle. They did admit their disappointment that neither son had turned out to be what one would call 'normal' but they loved deeply and accepted both.

This talk and its results lifted a great weight from Christian's shoulders. He never revealed the role Elena Lincoln played in his choice and they didn't think to ask how he started. But they loved him, were _not_ horrified and disgusted with him and hoped that now he would rejoin the family.

So, now his relationship with his family was repaired. Business was also better than ever. He was a multi-billionaire and had been for several years. Anything he wanted was his and he wanted plenty.

He funded his brother, Elliot, in his start in the construction business and it was a pleasure to watch Elliot run with it. His business seemed to double in clients every year. He was less in flannel and muddy boots than he was in smart suits and ties…although El actually preferred the former. He was thinking of getting a manager so that he could get back to slopping around muddy building sites and running bulldozers.

Christian also funded his sister, Mia, in her many attempts to find herself. This culinary thing was only the latest.

He had a dozen vehicles, a large security team, a penthouse with a great housekeeper, a fabulous #2 in Roz Baily, a helicopter named Charlie Tango, a catamaran called 'The Grace' and a couple of jets.

His wealth allowed him to be extremely charitable and to devote GEH money to projects that aided the third world. Currently, for one, he was funding research at WSU to improve soils conditions in areas with poor fertility and to provide wells for poor villages throughout Africa.

And, now, finally, he had Steele…. a woman with no limits, handy with an iron skillet and laundry rope and a firm insistence on no personal attachment.

Life was a dream. He thought.

AND BACK TO SUNDAY DINNER

Carrick enthused about the new paralegal who'd caught an error that could have cost the firm a client so it had been a good week for him.

"When she interviewed, I was skeptical. She had bright red hair, green eyes and the biggest pair of black rimmed glasses. She is quite a sight. As I hesitated, she suggested that she demonstrate her expertise and I simply handed her a contract. Within a few minutes, she returned it with several important corrections. I was floored. I hired her on the spot.

She is something of a mystery, however. She supplied the usual…her name, address, education but she never talks much and never about her life. Every afternoon, at precisely 5:00, she asks me if there is anything I need before she goes. Then she removes her heels, dons sneakers and starts walking. The word is out and I'm worried that she'll be poached by another firm. I told her that if anyone approaches her, would she please give me the opportunity to meet or raise theiroffer.

" _Why would anyone want me?" Ms. Lambert asked. Being referred to only as Ms. Lambert had been her request. It is what everyone, including her co-paralegals, called her._

" _Well," replied Carrick, surprised by her question, "you're an excellent paralegal and of great value to this or any firm. Word gets out and lawyers, paralegals, even clerks get poached."_

 _Ms. Lambert was quiet for a moment. "Don't these other firms already have people?" she asked, puzzled. "Not really good ones." Then he leaned over and whispered to her. "Can I tell you a secret?" "Yes," she replied very seriously" "No one here is half as good as you and I might poach from other firms." "Why haven't you?" she asked. "I might," Carrick smiled, "now I've been spoiled by you."_

 _Ms. Lambert did not smile or reply in thanks. She simply nodded and went back to her work._

"So, asked Christian, "how are things at SG?"

"Oh, good days and bad. That's hospital life. You win some, lose some…literally.

Yesterday, there were 2 births that had me in tears. Thank god, my perfect husband is always ready to comfort me. I don't know how he doesn't get bored with it after 30+ years." Grace smiled with such love at her Carrick who just looked back with something only Grace could see.

Christian wondered how they did it and figured that they were one in a billion. Their love was unusual.

Grace related a couple of sad cases…a stillborn and a child with severe cerebral palsy. The parents of the second were horrified and unable to conceive of how to raise such a child. Grace told them about their resident center for such children and the great staff and a couple of volunteers, especially one who came to see her own son and had started a family day on Sunday afternoons. She went on and on about the volunteer but Christian blanked out thinking about business.

Elliot went on to talk about his plans to hire someone else to wear a suit all day and asked Christian to find him a good manager.

"I know a good manager but you'll have to spend a lot of time training him in the design and construction business, El. That I know little about. Are you ready to spend a year or more of this guy shadowing you and asking you annoying questions?"

"Send him by. We'll see."

"And, the most interesting update question of the day" began El. Christian knew that his company, Grey Enterprise Holdings, was not of interest to Elliot. He didn't blame him. Mergers and acquisitions could be really boring. So, he braced himself for the 'most interesting update'.

"Yes, El," smiled Christian affectionately.

"Anything new on the sub front?" grinned Elliot. Immediately, his parents jumped on Elliot for being nosy but Christian waved them off.

"It's part of my life, Mom, Dad,…you've accepted it so I'm not ashamed to talk about it. What do want to know, El? Don't ask for an ex's phone number," he laughed.

"Well, last month you were snarly which I've come to recognize as meaning that your sex lifeisn't going well. Recently, however, you've got a lightness about you….sooo?"

"Who'd ever think a lug like you could be perceptive? It's a surprising quality in a man who likes to stand in mud all day.

Okay, a month ago I had to dismiss yet another 'I truly love you. Please give me a chance as your girlfriend. I know I can make you happy…sub'."

"I don't get it. I mean, you tie 'em up and beat 'em and make 'em keep their eyes down and call you Sir. Why would they fall in love with you?" marveled Elliot.

Christian didn't mention that he was an incredibly good fuck who gave them multiple shattering orgasms. "I suppose it's the gifts, i.e., the cars, the jewelry and such. I also have a pretty face, so they tell me. So, you've got a pretty multi-billionaire from a prominent family and, voila, 'love'.

The last several subs I've had to terminate the contract with early because of their inappropriate attachment to me."

As he said these things, Elliot looked interested and his parents looked perplexed. They had initially been appalled but as time went on they became worried and puzzled. It seemed so odd to them but they did their best to understand and support Christian.

"Yeah, yeah, you're adorable. So, new sub?" teased Elliot.

"Yeah, this was her third weekend. Guess what she did Saturday morning?" Christian said laughing.

"Now, now, Christian…while we support you, we don't need to hear the details from…well, that room," sighed his mother.

Christian continued laughing, knowing that would be Grace's expectation.

"No, Mom, I'm not going to give you the details of my sex life no matter how much you beg."

"As if," she huffed.

"Anyway, I came out to breakfast….she's a great cook, by the way…and found a guy hogtied on the foyer floor while my sub inquired as to my preference in French toast. This guy apparently got hold of the code for the 20th and let himself in. He didn't see the sub as he snuck past the kitchen and he didn't see the iron skillet coming at his head. She moved the gun out of range and then took some laundry rope and hogtied the guy.

And get this. She hadn't called the police yet because she knew the place would be crazy for a while and she thought I might like to eat first!"

They were full of questions all at once. Who was the guy, what did he want, how did he get in, how come security didn't catch him, how did the sub handle him with such calmness, where had he found Superwoman?

He answered all he could. He was rather proud of his new sub.

"So, she captures bad guys and cooks great. That isn't what you get a sub for, is it?" asked El, "So what else is so great about her?"

"Elliot!"

"Mom, I'm not asking for 'those' kind of details…at least not in front of you and Dad…just a general sort of question? Bro?"

"Well, she's very professional and detached. It is clear that she has no interest in me. She definitely considers us to have a sexual arrangement. She won't even eat dinner with me. She doesn't run around the penthouse naked in heels trying to get my interest." At this, Grace groaned.

"Well, Mom, the others spent a great deal of energy trying to get my attention. And I spent a lot of wasted time trying to get them to stop. They'd come into my office, my sacred inner sanctum, if you will, with various excuses to talk to me. As their Dom, I felt it was my duty to keep them happy so I put up with all this silliness. But it was wearing and eventually it all came down to them having feelings for me.

Then I'd call them in and explain that I was terminating their contracts because they had violated the clause forbidding attachment. I'd have to put up with crying and begging and even threats. Some would throw things at me. Why do women do that, Mom? It was so wearing. It wasn't worth it. And BDSM requires stamina and so many of these women would be yelling yellow and red after I'd barely touched them. I was dismissing women every weekend.

Then my contact called me with a new sub who wanted a salary rather than gifts, no attachment, no limits. I was intrigued so I asked her to come for an interview."

At this point both Grace and Carrick, in addition to Elliot of course, were leaning on their elbows, enthralled. They may have been appalled at their youngest son's activities but they were increasingly fascinated as well, though they would never admit it to themselves.

"She is beautiful with long brunette hair, blue eyes that would knock you over, though I seldom see them, cute little body, soft voice. She read the contract, changed some things and signed and, well, went right to work and it was perfect. No chitchat, no flirting, no attempts to engage me on any level. I showed her the sub's room. It's pretty ugly right now, thanks to the last sub's questionable taste. I told her that she could redecorate. Any other sub would strip the placedown to the studs…."

At this, Elliot roared, because one sub had indeed taken the room down to the studs. He put up new drywall and redid the room completely.

"Anyway, if I may continue, El," sniped Christian, "she said it was fine the way it was. She hasn't asked me for a thing except her weekly check on the dining room table. She wants no contact between us except for the Red Room and the serving of my dinner. As I said, she won't eat with me, feeling it is too personal. She's perfect. Except for…."

"Knew it was too good to be true," sighed Grace.

"Oh, it's nothing much. It's just that I know little about her or where she goes when she isn't at the penthouse. Curiosity, that's all," finished Christian.

Grace and Carrick exchanged glances.

WEEKEND #4

The elevator pinged at exactly 8:30. Christian was already in his Red Room jeans. He raced out of the study in time to follow Steele and her perfect pert little ass up the stairs. She said nothing to him as she disappeared into the sub room. A glimpse of it as she entered made Christian wonder how she tolerated the colors and posters and the total ugliness of it all. He knew that she knew he was behind her so he went straight into the Red Room and waited for her.

Just 2 minutes later, she came through the door wearing a thin robe. She removed it and hung in on the hook and knelt before him. God, he was in heaven. No chitchat. No sly, 'good evening, Sir, it's good to see you and I hope you're well tonight. I've been thinking about this all day. I so enjoy'….etc., oh, just shut up. No, with Steele, there was no greeting, just kneeling and awaiting instructions.

So, he began. It was the sub's duty to keep her eyes down. To look at the Dom was an infraction as the sub was unworthy to gaze upon her master without his permission.

"Ms. Steele, lift your head and look at me," commanded Christian.

Steele hesitated, also an infraction. "Sir, permission to speak." "Granted." "Sir, I do not understand your command or its purpose."

"You do not need to understand. You need only to obey." He had to see those eyes again.

"Of course, please forgive my impertinence," Steele replied, her voice slightly quavering.

She raised her head and lifted her lids to reveal the most beautiful, knockout, stunning, breathtaking, well….there weren't enough adjectives.

He suddenly felt that he'd made a mistake. He felt he could spend his entire playroom time just looking into her eyes. And more….he could see fear in those eyes.

"You may lower your head. Don't be afraid. You aren't in trouble. I was simply curious. Let's continue." He heard the slight waver in his own voice.

For the next 2 hours, he used her body to put his own at ease. He realized that he wasn't as hard on her as the first weekend. That is to say, he'd belted her 6 times instead of 12. Paddled her until her ass was pink instead of flaming red and then immediately unstrapped her. He fucked her more gently and was astounded that it was his choice and not because he wanted to go easy on her. It simply felt better to slow down and truly feel her.

He flogged only to sensitize her skin before he took her again. She still had little reaction to orgasms. When he'd finally untied her, he asked if she was truly orgasming or was she faking and he made her look into his eyes when she answered.

"Of course, I have orgasms, Sir. It is kind of you to attempt to please me. However, as explained to me, my purpose is to arouse and pleasure you. I was quite surprised when you began giving me orgasms." Then she added without emotion. "You are quite skilled and know a woman's body well. Physiologically, I could not resist orgasming unless there was something wrong with my body."

"Oh. Do you enjoy the orgasms?" Christian almost pleaded.

"Of course, Sir. How could one not enjoy an orgasm?" Steele replied seriously.

"Did you eat before you came here tonight?

Steele hesitated and before she could answer Christian said firmly, "Do not lie to your Dom."

She, looking down, shook her head.

"Get showered and comfortable and come to the kitchen. Do you like Mac and Cheese?"

"Yes, Sir," she almost smiled.

DINNER WITH THE BOSS

Twenty minutes later Steele descended the staircase. She was attired in a matching silken gown and robe with ballet slippers on her small feet, her hair flowing around her shoulders. Christian could only stare, esp. when she raised her head and opened her eyes. She was so breathtaking.

He was glad that he was behind the breakfast bar because his hard-on would have, oddly enough, shocked her.

He suddenly realized that she had dressed for him, her master. She was only being a good sub. He could, therefore, have taken her there, on the stairs. He didn't know why he didn't.

"I know that you feel that eating together is too personal but I didn't want to eat alone. I would, in fact, like to amend the contract to spending time together outside of the playroom, to amuse myself, of course. Could we discuss that?"

"I'm hesitant, Sir. Sharing non-sexual activities can lead to personal involvement which neither of us wants. You say that this time sharing would be amusing for you? With your other subs did you spend time other than sexual?"

"Yes, we did. We did not 'date', if you're asking, although many wanted to. One of my subs tried to smash a Waterford vase over my head when I refused to take her as my date to the Coping Together Gala."

He gazed in wonder as Steele threw her head back and laughed. "How much longer did that contract continue," she giggled.

"Oh, she left that night, sent me several death threats and we had to change the codes."

Suddenly, Steele was serious again, her face betraying concern. "It isn't my business, Sir, but the man who broke in. Why did he want to scare me or hurt me? I've rather been wondering?"

Christian was startled. The SPD had told him that the man said his target was the girl in the room at the end of the upstairs hallway. He was not to harm her, just fire a few rounds into the headboard, the wall and the mattress and then quietly leave. He didn't know why but those were his instructions. He had received an envelope containing $10,000, told where and what to do, given codes to the emergency stairwell and was to receive another envelope with $10,000 when he successfully completes his mission. Being whacked on the head by the target and hogtied was a complete surprise. Still, he certainly had to admire the girl and she was so sweet to him. He was tied up just enough to secure him but she was not out to hurt him. She apologized for hitting him, too.

How, Christian wondered, did she know? He hadn't told her what the police revealed to him. They were now looking for the person who wanted to scare her.

"How did you know?"

"Well, I talked with him a bit. You know, I rarely meet criminal types so I was curious about his choice of career. He told me about his mission. Since then, I've thought that perhaps it was one of your previous subs who was jealous. I learned from Ms. Lincoln that many of your subs fell in love, or something like it, with you. I suppose you ought to change the codes more often, like when I leave."

 _When I leave…._ Christian felt a sudden painful reaction that he couldn't identify at her words. Still, she was correct. They were sloppy. It had been a week and they still hadn't changed the codes. While Steele enjoyed her Mac and Cheese which she liked to spread on toast, good grief…Christian texted his head of security to meet with him in his study in 30 minutes. It was quite late and it was supposed to be his weekend off but it was Taylor's own fault that he hadn't seen to these matters before now.

"How's the Mac and Cheese? I've never thought to eat it between slices of toast."

"Oh, there is so much one can do with Mac and Cheese. I'll write up a list….wait, would Mrs. Jones find my giving her suggestions to be insulting?"

Christian didn't answer. She was talking to him and her blue eyes were wide open for him to look into. He was just sitting on a cloud.

"Sir?"

"What? Oh, yes, Mrs. Jones. No, no, she wouldn't be insulted. She's a bit territorial about me but I think she might interested in that idea so please share.

I'm sorry. I can't give you an answer to your other question. I don't know why someone would want to scare you but your thought is an interesting one. I'll look into it. Meanwhile, I'm afraid something has become imperative regarding your safety. I know you'll consider it to be intrusive and will not like it but it is quite clear that it is necessary."

"Oh, dear, are you going to insist that I accept a car?" she looked unhappy.

"Hmmm…I'm going to insist that you have a CPO who will drive you everywhere. It is a miracle that you made it this far. I don't know why that thug didn't just attack you on the street.

"I believe that the idea was to discourage my continued employment with you. Attacking me on the street would imply a simple random mugging. Therefore, worrying about my being a target on the street would be senseless. No CPO is necessary.

Christian wondered if he heard correctly. "Steele, the next time might not be a scare."

"Sir, I believe I've demonstrated that I can handle attacks on my person. I cannot handle attacks on my privacy. I am yours on the weekend. The week is mine. What is a CPO?"

"Close Protection Officer. Steele, you got lucky with that guy." As he said this, Steele's eyes fired up and her mouth set in the cutest damn pout. Christian gulped and tried to keep his head straight. "How do you think it would affect me? I give in to your demands and you get hurt or worse…what do think that does to me? I am your Dom."

Steele considered this for a full minute or more, leaving Christian stuffing mac and cheese between toast. She was right. This was damn good.

"We have a conundrum, Sir. I do not wish to cause you consternation but I need to have my private life. You already know my body like a book." Christian inwardly smiled at this declaration.

"How about I agree to your CPO on your time only?"

"I would want you to be driven here on Friday night, wherever it is you go on Saturdays and driven home on Sundays. I would also want a CPO in a car outside your apartment any time you are there."

"Apartment surveillance is my time, sir," Steele politely argued.

"Steele, what makes you think an assailant wouldn't try to get you on your time?"

"I own a .357 magnum, sir, and I know how to use it. I took classes at the police range and received a grade of excellent, sir. Do you know what they make you go through to get a certificate? I made not one mistake in going through the course. You may call an officer named Clancy. He will vouch for my skill," she said proudly.

"Good grief, my sub is Pepper Anderson.." groaned Christian.

"Who, Sir?"

"Old police TV show with Angie Dickinson…never mind. I'm not going to win this one, I know. All right. We'll try it but first sign that you need more than a gun and an attitude, you agree to 24/7 CPO, no argument."

Steele wisely decided to let it drop. Weariness was overcoming her and she was hoping that Sir didn't want more playtime. She'd probably sleep through it.

Christian saw the sleepiness in Steele's eyes. Unfortunately, half-lidded her eyes were sultry as hell. It took everything in him to say a simple good night and send her off to bed, watching her ass going up the stairs. For the first time that he could ever recall, he wanted to sleep, just sleep with someone…with Steele. Get a grip, he told himself.

After Steele had disappeared and Grey's vision had cleared, he strode into the study where he found his security head, Taylor, waiting.

"Have the codes been changed?"

"Yes, sir. They have not yet been issued to the usual parties. I would like to suggest changes."

"Such as…?" asked Grey

"Sir, there is too much danger that those holding the codes would carelessly expose them to the wrong people. It would be nothing for your brother, spending time at bars as he does, to have his pocket picked. I trust your father but your mother's purse I do not. Mrs. Lincoln tends to walk in and out without notice. And so on. Oh, did I mention Mia?"

Christian laughed. His security team in Paris was exhausted, harried and about ready to kill his little sister.

"So, sir, I'm thinking that the front desk should have a sanctioned visitor's list. They would be issued badges with bar codes to activate the elevator and would have to return the badges when leaving. If someone slipped through or refused, we could act on that, sir."

"I agree. Also, in addition to badges, if someone tries to enter the emergency stairwell at level 20 without the badge, there should be an alarm. A real racket. Speaking of the need for a racket, have you spoken to Reynolds?"

"Yes, sir. Mortified doesn't begin to describe his feelings. Not only because he fell asleep but because he awoke to find that a tiny girl had whacked and hogtied the intruder whilst making breakfast. He offered his resignation. I told him I needed to discuss it with you."

"Well, what excuse did he give? He's usually dependable. This was unheard of for Reynolds."

"Yes, well, it seems he had the flu and had spent the day vomiting. He was dehydrated, without nutrition and had not slept in two days. Being young, he thought that he had to prove himself by toughing it out. His body had other ideas. Logs show he was awake until an hour before the intruder arrived. I gave him a talking to about being reckless. What do you want to do?"

"You're the head of security. You're the one ultimately responsible for your team's efficiency. You're the one who has to sleep nights if someone you approved of slipped up," said Grey.

"Then he stays, sir. He's a good man."

"Ok, that's settled. Now, on to the intruder. Thoughts?"

"I'm inclined to think that it was one of your former subs. There were several dismissed because they, quote unquote, loved you. Jealousy over a new sub would be every reason to want to scare her away. I must say, sir, that I find Ms. Steele's nonchalance…hmmm…unusual. The logs show her calmly whacking him, moving his gun with her foot to behind the stair and then returning from the laundry room to hogtie him. Then she sits down and talks with him, inquiring as to his comfort and asking him about the life of a thug, after which she gave him 2 Advil and orange juice Then, just before you come in, she pats his head and returns to the kitchen. Weird."

"She is rather difficult to rattle, I'll say that. I've told her that she is to have a CPO to drive her everywhere all week. She was highly insulted that I didn't think that she and your wife's frying pan were protection enough. We finally settled on weekend CPO."

"What about the week?"

"Nope. That would be too much violation of her privacy. Unless something occurs to change circumstances, she'll take care of herself, thank you very much." Grey slammed his hand on the desk for emphasis.

"And, get this, Jason. She owns a .357 magnum and a certificate of excellence from the SPD."

"Well, that's a first. God, I hope she doesn't shoot up the streets. Do you want us to put covert on her?"

"Yes…but extremely covert. I promised. If she found out…. Let's concentrate on finding our perp. Where are all the girls, what are they doing, etc."

"Yes, sir, I already have Welch on it. Nothing suspicious yet. There are only two of the 15 left in Seattle. The others have moved on."

"Who is still here?"

"Leila Williams and Susannah Jackson and they're sharing an apartment downtown. Leila is working in an art shop and Susannah is working at Elena Lincoln's shop at the Bravern Center as a shampoo girl. Nothing about their comings and goings seems unusual but we'll keep watch."

"The perp was being paid $20,000, Taylor. Shampoo girls make barely that a year," reasoned Christian.

"True, sir, but you gave Ms. Jackson a lot of quite expensive gifts, including jewelry, that she could have sold. For that matter, you did the same for Ms. William's and others. I really am inclined to believe that this intrusion was an attempt to scare off competition. However, I am puzzled about the timing," Taylor said.

"What about the timing?"

"Well, Ms. Steele had been here less than a month when contracts usually last 3 months yet someone is trying to scare her off? If, as we surmise, it is a jealous ex-sub, why so soon? A month or two when the perp is fearful that you're pleased with Ms. Steele….well, then scaring her off would seem more likely."

"I'm wondering…what if Elena got a better offer? She isn't supposed to be "selling" these women but I certainly wouldn't put it past her. She's tried a time or two with me, claiming that the girl was in demand but I didn't fall for it."

"Okay, how about Sawyer as Steele's CPO, Taylor?"

"Sawyer is a pretty top level CPO, sir. Are you certain you want him on a lower level assignment?"

"To a sub who is a certain target, yes."

"Okay, sir. Consider it done. Now can I get back to bed?"

"You mean back to Gail, don't you?"

"Goodnight, sir," sneered Taylor.

Saturday seemed to fly by. Normally having a sub out from under his feet would have been a good thing but when Steele left at 1:00, Grey headed for his study and wondered what to do with himself. He gazed down at his desktop and the inevitable pile of spreadsheets and acquisition papers. He remembered that last week he'd been excited about acquiring a certain telecommunication parts company in Taiwan but now he couldn't remember which it was or why he wanted it so badly.

He sat in his chair, swiveling back and forth and daydreaming about flogging Ms. Steele. He put a mask on her because he wanted so badly for her to open her eyes but she wouldn't and shouldn't and he couldn't stand looking at her without seeing them. He imagined painting fake blue eyes on a mask and laughed.

He tried to belt her more than 3 times but he just didn't have it in him. Ditto caning, whipping, doing anything that left a mark or could cause pain. He meant to ask her why she didn't feel pain. He'd certainly had limitless subs before and asking them what they felt or didn't feel never occurred to him. So, if Steele didn't feel pain, why couldn't he give it to her? He just didn't feel enough anger or tension to do so. He did like to mask her and hang her on the cross so that he could just look at her. God, she had the loveliest body. He would handcuff her to the carabiners and just run his hands all over her. She was soft and silky and he could swear that he felt her quiver a bit from his touch.

He brought her to orgasm and now he commanded her to speak when she came. She would ask what he wished her to say.

"Say my name when you come, Ms. Steele."

"Yes, sir," she agreed. But it was flat sounding when it was an order. So, instead, he worked hard at bringing her to stronger and stronger climaxes. He'd bring her to the edge and stop, repeat again and again until she was sweating and gasping for breath, even squirming…then he put his mouth on hers as he allowed her to come. The first word she screamed wasn't his name but still he felt triumphant. That orgasm, he knew, was more than physiological.

Immediately after, she fell asleep. He removed the handcuffs and held her for a bit. Then he carried her into her room and tucked her into bed. He couldn't help himself. He climbed in behind her and spooned her until he felt himself about to drift off. It would be so nice if he could but he was apprehensive that he'd lose her if he got too close. As it was, he was going to have to answer for that kiss later.

Around 6 pm Steele came flying down the stairs in her yoga pants and t-shirt. He was in his study trying to concentrate on something, anything, when he saw her fly by. He watched on the monitor while she grabbed ingredients from the fridge, tore thru the pots and pans drawer, grabbed bowls and poured things into them, stirring frantically. He had to close the door so she wouldn't hear him chuckling.

15 minutes later, there was a small knock on his door.

"Enter," he answered.

"Are you ready for dinner as yet, sir?" Steele asked.

He decided to take pity on her, glanced at his Rolex and said, "Well, I guess I could eat," though he been starving for almost an hour.

As he took his seat at the dining table, he noticed that there was only one place setting.

"Ms. Steele, have you eaten?" He narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to lie.

She looked uncertain for a moment and then confessed that she had not. "Then I believe we need another place setting." She hesitated, sighed, "Yes, sir," and set a place for herself. Then she brought out a large bowl of Angel Chicken Pasta, another of Greek Salad, garlic bread and his favorite wine along with a carafe of ice water for herself. He would have liked to marvel aloud that she could throw a meal like this together in 15 minutes but he didn't want to "out" her. He decided to tease her by very seriously asking about dessert because that she surely did not have time to make and he expect her to say 'ice cream'.

"Strawberry Crème Brulee. Is that alright?" Christian stared. "Oh, dear, are you allergic to strawberries? I didn't think. Well, we have ice cream and I can make something quickly with that. Would you like a parfait? Mr. Grey? Sir?"

"When d..did you have time to make the Strawberry Crème Brulee?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh, had me going there…"

"Sir?"

"Nothing, never mind. This looks delicious. You must have spent a lot of time in the kitchen."

"No," was her reply.

They ate in silence and he knew that any conversation he would have to start.

"So, I spoke with Taylor about suspects," he said as he watched her concentrating on twirling her noodles. "Most of my former subs have left town. We have the two left being watched."

She continued twirling without actually eating. "Eat," he ordered. She looked up him, with those blue eyes. "Or not"…he trailed off.

"Uh, anyway, one of the two is a shampoo girl at the salon at the Bravern Center. Have you been?"

"Hardly," she giggled.

"Why not," he asked in confusion as to why that was giggle-worthy even though the giggle itself was pure happiness for him.

"Sir, an ordinary haircut in a place like that is $300! I can cut my own hair for the price of a $2.00 pair of scissors and donate $298.00 to Heifer International. Rich people are so silly sometimes."

At that point, her fork stopped half-way to her mouth and then she lowered it to her plate.

"I'm sorry, sir. That was thoughtless of me. Please forgive me," she lowered her gaze.

"You forgot the tip and then, of course, there's extra for the shampoo girl but you can wash your own hair, too," he chuckled.

Realizing that he was teasing her, she smiled a bit. Even that bit was enough to bring him a thrill.

"I guess I'm getting used to you," she said, "I forget that you're rich. That's pretty silly, isn't it. I mean, look around. Do you like your salad? Would you rather a creamier dressing?"

"No, I prefer vinaigrettes. And everything is delicious. About your security, Ms. Steele…"

She had an expression like she smelled something bad. He had to laugh, inwardly, of course.

Out loud could be dangerous.

She dabbed her napkin to her lips and sighed.

"Yes, sir, what has been decided?"

"A man named Sawyer will be your CPO on the weekends. You need to tell me where he should pick you up on Friday nights."

She thought for a moment and then gave him the address of a coffee house near Seattle General.

"Okay. Where will he be dropping you off on Saturday during your 2-hour break?" He already knew the answer. "The same coffee house."

"Would you like him to wait for you?" Again, he knew the answer already.

"No, I'll meet him back there at 2:45. No sooner."

"Okay and I'm guessing that on Sunday you'd like him to drop you off at that coffee house as well."

"Yes, that would be fine. Thank you."

"Ms. Steele, I know that you live a good 5 miles north of that coffee house and I suspect that you will walk that distance after dark. I will not question you but I will have Sawyer meet you at that coffee house just after 8 pm Sunday night to drive you home, understood?"

"My hours in your employ end at 1 pm, sir."

"I am aware. End of discussion. Clean up and meet me in the Red Room in 15 minutes," he stood and turned to go, then stopped and turned back, "oh, and thank you for a delicious dinner."

That night's session in the playroom was harsher than the last couple. He was angry with her. It was mixed up. He was worried about her and angry with her because she wouldn't accept his protection. He had no trouble beating her 12 times with the belt, flogging her, whipping her, pounding into her, hanging her from the carabiners while wearing a mask. That last was his undoing. He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful body and then he noticed a single tear escape from under the mask. He stood and released her. She couldn't stand. She fell into his arms tho' she did try to stand. He pulled the mask off and asked her why she was crying.

"I'm not crying per say, sir. I have an irritation in my eye, perhaps from the fibers of the mask."

Grey didn't believe her. She'd never cried before when she'd received far harsher treatment so why now.

"That isn't true. Look at me. There are tears in both of your eyes. I am your Dom. You don't lie to me." His tone was harsh and angry. He saw fear in her eyes.

"You never beat me before in anger, sir. I believe that our conversation at dinner made you mad at me and I felt bad about that. Therefore, I was unable to concentrate on the beatings and there was pain. I am sorry, sir. It is wrong of me to make you feel upset."

Christian felt deep confusion. Since she couldn't stand, he picked her up and sat with her on the bed. "I don't understand, Ms. Steele, when you say that you were unable to concentrate on the beatings and, therefore, felt pain."

"The pain of upsetting you, sir. You were only trying to protect me and I was ungrateful."

"Ms. Steele, I have been meaning to ask you since the beginning of our first time together. How do ou tolerate the beatings, the lack of limits?"

"What does it matter, sir? Are you not pleased with the lack of limits? Ms. Lincoln said that such an ability would make you very happy. You did seem happy last week. As your sub, that is my only job…to give you exactly what you need."

"And what do you need, Ms. Steele, besides a check for $40,000 each week?"

"I don't understand, sir. A sub's needs are not to be considered."

"Nonetheless, Ms. Steele, have I not considered your needs for privacy and lack of gifts."

"Those are conditions of the contract, not a consideration of my needs."

"You haven't answered my initial question, Ms. Steele. How do you stand the pain? I have never had a sub who never used a safe word."

"You might not understand, sir."

"Try me," he ordered.

"The pain of the beatings slowly begins to block out other pain…. worse, more complex pain than a caning or a belt. Those are simple pains, mere agony.

" _Mere agony?"_ Christian was stunned.

They require no more of me than to hurt and eventually, if it continues long enough, I trance out to where it is just me and pain and I feel peace."

"Worse pain, complex pain. Surprisingly, I may understand. I became a sub of Elena Lincoln's when I was 15. At that time, I suffered from a phobia that prevented tolerance of touch. I was angry at the world. She beat me mercilessly, except where I couldn't be touched. The beatings were terrible but they took me out of myself for a while.

Will you tell me what pain it is you need beatings for?"

"No. I've shared too much with you lately. We could form an attachment. I cannot tolerate attachments. I'm sorry, sir, I don't mean to be unkind when you've been so kind to me. Perhaps I ought to end our arrangement."

"Absolutely not, Ms. Steele. Our contract will continue, understood?"

For once, she raises her eyes and looks at Grey. He immediately stands her up and tells her to go to her room and get some sleep. She puts on her robe and leaves.

The moment she looked at him he felt myself getting hard, fast. He didn't want her to know that she had that effect on him. Also, he wanted desperately to kiss her. He suspected that this arrangement was not going well for him but it was late for second thoughts.

Damn.

WEEKEND #12

Perhaps by mutual unspoken agreement, Steele and Grey continued their arrangement without further in depth conversation. The hours continued, Sawyer drove Ms. Steele without problems although he did tell Grey that she was coming to and from the hospital. He could easily have found out who was at the hospital but he was trying like hell to keep from invading her privacy any further.

Every Sunday at family dinner he was asked about his sub. He would shrug and say that everything was fine. They were still compatible and, thankfully, she had not yet developed "feelings" for him. He never mentioned that he was developing feelings for her. Things had settled, thank goodness, into a state of calm inertia with no drama, no new expectations, no demands. Unlike previous subs, there were no attempts on the part of this sub to expand the boundaries of the arrangement so he was able to relax. Eventually, the family grew bored with the lack of developments and stopped asking him.

Carrick was still enamored of his red-headed paralegal who continued to excel and often save their hides. He had promoted her and given her more responsibilities and a raise. He was, it seemed, constantly fighting off poachers. She had taken to ordering in lunch rather than go to restaurants where recruiters from other firms attempted to strike up conversations. She preferred her lunch time to herself. Many times the men who approached were not poachers…just men interested in a gorgeous redhead with green eyes and a cute figure. She was not interested in them either.

Carrick had taken Grace up on her suggestion that he invite Ms. Lambert to dinner. Elliot was particularly interested in meeting her. She thanked Carrick but said she valued her time to herself because she had so little of it.

Grace continued to rave about the volunteer at the hospital who came so often and was so successful at encouraging the other parents to visit their children. Some parents had completely abandoned their children to the state's care, actually terminated their parental rights, leaving Medicaid to pay the children's bills. The volunteer, whom Grace referred to only as Ms. Wilkes, used her own money to purchase blankets, clothes, toys and other necessary things for the children. She had held two very successful bake sales to raise money for two large, cushioned, reclining chairs with wings to cuddle into that made it much easier for parents to hold children frozen into strange, uncomfortable shapes. She had purchased with her own money a rubber floor, hypoallergenic and extremely soft for children who were forced by their deformities to rest on sharp elbows and in uncomfortable positions. On Sundays, she would gather all the children out of their cribs and lay them on the floor. They loved being close to each other and would even attempt to drag or crawl to each other.

They were not attractive children to anyone first seeing them. Their mouths were usually set in a grimace rather than the cute bow mouth of regular babies. They drooled constantly, having nocontrol. They would flap their arms and hands and even legs about. Ms. Wilkes had taken more than one sock to the face but she would only laugh. She had a gift for knowing how to gather a child up into her arms and hold him close. She would sing to them and tell them stories. Their damaged brains made it difficult for them to understand much but they loved her bright facial expressions and crazy voices as she gazed at each in turn.

Mostly she held and loved her own child, 5-year-old Joey. He was the oldest patient and until recently had been threatened by the business office with eviction. Because of his advanced years he was in need of more care and attention. He had recently required an operation on his heart. It was only a stop gap measure. There was no way to prevent his eventual death from cardiac arrest. Even with Ms. Wilke's increase in funds there were no doctors or surgeries that would put off the end. Joey was not a candidate for a heart transplant because even with it, he wouldn't live more than a year. Ms. Wilkes gathered all the Sunday parents into a circle of play and sat in her chair cuddling her 5-year-old, rocking and singing to him. She didn't seem to notice that after a time the other parents were also cuddling and rocking and listening to her sing.

Sunday seemed to be her darkest day. It was the day that she was able to spend 7 hours straight with Joey and the day that other parents relieved her somewhat by taking of their own children. Still, it was Sunday that she seemed to drag herself out the door. Grace wondered where she went. One of the nurses told grace that Ms. Wilkes went down to Mike's coffee ship a couple blocks down, to unwind, she supposed. Things with Joey had progressed to the point that his heart could stop at any time.

On Friday nights, she arrived around 5:00 and even tho' she had only three hours with Joey, she was happy. She raced out the door and ran down to Mike's. No one noticed that she was picked up every night by the black Mercedes luxury SUV. No one knew how she looked forward to Grey and his Red Room. The pain he graced her with made her forget Joey for a short while. Sometimes she even slept through the night. For the weekend, she was free, in a strange way, but still free.

She had no idea how much Grey looked forward to 8:30. He knew nothing of her need for the pain except that it helped disguise an even greater pain. She had begun to be more vocal as he beat her, asking for more and harder. Whatever, she needed desperately to forget for a while. Meanwhile, as she needed harder and more pain, Christian needed less. He didn't want to hurt her. The fury he had always carried with him over his crack whore mother seemed to have dissipated. He didn't see her anymore when he brought a belt down on the back of Steele. He saw only Steele and it was beginning to break his heart even though he wanted to give her what she needed.

But still, for the next 2 months, he did what he needed to do to keep her. Their three month contract was coming to an end and he wanted, needed, to extend it. He feared that Steele would feel differently. She was adamant that they be emotionally disconnected and only professionally related. If she sensed that he was feeling for her, he was sure that she would fly. He felt so caught between a rock and a hard place.

Elena called him to offer him again 2 possible subs who would be perfect for him. He insisted that his arrangement with Steele suited him perfectly. All business, no emotional attachment and no limits. Elena accused him of becoming emotionally involved. He asked where she got that idea. Elena said it was time to move on and not to worry about Steele. She was much in demand elsewhere. He needed to stay objective and could only do that by moving on to a new sub. He laughed and said, sure find another sub in love with me and out the door in two weeks. No thanks he didn't need novelty; he needed stability. Steele was, he crowed, cool, without emotions. She arrived, spent time in the Red Room without safe wording and as the clock tolled 1 pm, left without a word. It was perfect and she was one in a million.

Elena got right to it. Steele was an anomaly, a rarity in the BDSM world. Elena could get a lot of money for her. She could demand 3 month payments and then move on to the next. On the popularity of Steel alone, Elena could retire in a few years. What she didn't say was that her retirement would allow her more time to be with Christian. She still believed that he belonged to her.

"Do you hear yourself, Elena. You're not talking anymore about connecting subs with Doms and taking a small kickback, which is bad enough. You're talking about selling a human being until she's used up and you're rich."

"Well, why not? She'll profit, I'm sure. She'll get the pain she wants. Do you honestly think that she'll want to stay with you indefinitely? How boring. I don't care how good or inventive you can be. I've already warned her that you've become emotionally attached to her and this is not what she wants. She was horrified. She will not extend her contract with you, Christian. Trust me. Move on."

Christian threw his phone across the room, screaming in frustration. He was so upset he didn't hear the elevator or the soft knock on his door….just a voice asking him if he kept a supply ofextra phones about. He looked at Steele and muttered that usually Barney got him a new one.

But do you have one lying about, she asked? He rummaged through a drawer and found a box containing six new iPhones.

Steele removed a tiny card she called the Sim card from the back of his destroyed phone and carefully inserted the card into the back of the new phone. Bingo, he had a phone. She figured that he knew this stuff being a telecommunication genius and all but he'd never learned the small stuff he left to others.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her. "I thought you might not be coming after talking to Elena," he acknowledged in a worried voice.

"I don't listen to her. She lies. It's late. Are you hungry or would you rather go straight to the playroom, Sir?"

"Hungry. How about you?"

"Hungry. Let's see what's in the kitchen." He followed her like a lost puppy. She had come back. Elena was lying…but she was dangerous. She would think nothing of kidnapping Steele and selling her to the highest bidder.

"Pasta is fast and we can put in several ingredients. We have spinach and shrimp and broccoli and I can whip a creamy alfredo with that special ingredient you like. Then a bit of dough and we'll have bread sticks, the soft kind you love and a salad. How does all that sound?"

"Fine," he spoke so softly, gazing at her, not even caring if she saw the devotion in his eyes.

"Okay, you relax or play the piano and dinner will be ready before you know it."

She could have offered him a bowl of oatmeal and he would have been oblivious. All he knew was that she was here, smiling and her blue eyes shining at him. He was ready to burst with happiness. How would he explain that to her? He had to find a good excuse. Tonight, he was going to propose a contract and extension of 3 or 6 or 9 months, whatever she wanted and he needed to appear Dom-like, not puppy-dog-in-love-like.

Steele seemed nervous. There was something she wanted to say. He waited. She put her folk down.

"Hmm….something happened last night. I have been unsure as to whether I ought to mention it to you. I thought that if the fellow you've had watching my apartment reported it to you and I did not, you might be angry."

Christian tried to play innocent…"a fellow watching you?" She cocked her head to the side and stared steadily until he cracked and apologized for breaking his promise. "However, I've received no report, Steele."

"I'm guessing the poor fellow was otherwise occupied at the time. Anyway, around 11:00, just as I was walking around turning out lights, there was a pounding at my door. Don't yell, please, but I opened it," cringed Steele.

 **"** **WHAT IN THE HELL COULD YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING? YOU ALWAYS CHECK THE PEEPHOLE!"**

Grey took a calming breath but surprisingly enough, Steele simply raised her eyes to him andwaited. "I apologize, Ms. Steele. Please go on."

"I don't have a peephole, Sir."

Doesn't have the simple security of a peephole. Holy hell.

"I opened the door and was surprised to find Mrs. Lincoln. She walked in unbidden, settled herself on my sofa, looked around and said,' What a dump'. It was an almost perfect Bette Davis imitation. You know, I think she's kind of fashioned herself after Bette. Anyway, I offered her a drink and she asked for a San sare something. I suggested coffee or a cola or tea. She waved off my suggestion with her black gloves in a haughty manner. She does imperious better than anyone I've ever known."

"I asked what I could do for her at such an hour and she laughed, well, cackled at the suggestion that _I_ could anything for _her_. She said that it was time for me to come home, that _she_ was my home."

"Well, I laughed and told her that she made me sound like a homing pigeon and she slapped me. Before I had time to think, she told me that I belong to her as do all 'her girls' and I'd spent enough time with you and it was time to move on. She grabbed my arm, twisted it behind my back and ordered me to agree. I laughed and reminded her that I have no limits. She turned me around and said, ' girl, get your bags.' I agreed and went to my bedroom, returning with my .357 magnum."

"I told her to get out and that since it pissed her off so much that I wouldn't agree to leave you that I'd decided to stay with you forever just to tick her off. Golly, the furiously indignant look on her face almost made the plastic crack. I began to laugh. She pulled a knife out of her bag andcame at me. I held up the gun, just to remind her that I had it.

She said that I didn't have the nerve so I blew a hole in her Hermes handbag. Then she screeched and scurried away into the night like a demented badger."

"Sir, I'm fairly convinced that she hired the fellow who was supposed to scare me but why I am so important to her, I do not understand. But maybe it isn't me who is so important. I think maybe she has a little crush on you."

"Why would you think that, Steele?" Christian asked, trying to sound casual. 

"Something the girl from Mike's, Susie, told me. She said that if I developed feelings for you that I should keep them to myself. She said that when the girls would go to Elena, crying and claiming to have fallen for you that Elena would encourage them to be honest with you, that you appreciated honesty but that every time someone would let their feelings be known, the contract would be terminated. Well, that didn't make sense to me. I didn't think too much more about it since I had no 'feelings' to share anyway. However, now…..I wonder if Elena…oh, I don't know."

"All one has to understand about Elena is power and money, Ms. Steele. She'll just keep selling you to the highest bidder," he said, trying to distract Steele.

"Were you, therefore, the highest bidder and, if so, how long are you supposed to be able to have me?" Christian thought he saw actual hurt in Steele's eyes.

"Maybe other Doms pay for their subs but I do not. I take care of my subs. I do not take care of Elena. Besides, what you're suggesting is illegal. Did you mean it at all?"

"Mean what?" She almost whispered as the conversation had gotten more sensitive.

"That you'd stay with me forever just to piss her off?" Christian hoped he appeared indifferent.

"Well, I'm content and as long as _you_ don't piss me off"…..she giggled and it took everything in him to not grab her and kiss her long and deep until neither could breathe.

Christian smiled mildly and remarked that he'd watch himself. However, she would now have 24/7 CPOs and someone would be 'round tomorrow to install, among all safety measures, a steel door with a peephole.

"You might be pretty close to the edge of pissing me off, Sir."

"Tough, Steele. Would you rather spend your life living with a Dom in Portugal?"

"If I left you to her, she might leave me alone," suggested Steele but right then even she could see the desolate look on Christian's face so she pretended that she was sticking around for the big bucks.

"AND, of course, you still got a big raise so….." Christian pretended to laugh.

Whatever else he did, he had to keep her safe and away from Elena.

EXTENDED CONTRACT OR NOT?

They ate mostly in silence. Grey, because he was thinking of Steele. Steele, because she was thinking of Joey.

"This weekend is the end of your contract. Perhaps we should meet in the study after dinner for a discussion. What do you think?" asked Grey, trying to sound nonchalant. Steele simply nodded and replied, "Yes, sir."

There were things that Grey wanted and was afraid to ask for. He would have to propose his changes as if they were just ideas that Steele could easily reject. Steele, herself, had ideas also to propose but she suspected that he would reject them but still want her…of that she felt certain.

Without thinking that way, she instinctively knew that she held the power in the relationship which did not comfort her because she did not want a relationship.

After dinner, she collected the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Then she took a look in the mirror to see if she was presentable and turned to walk into the study. Grey heard her knock and bid her enter and take a seat. He told her that she did not need to lower her eyes.

He coughed and then looked at her. Maybe he was hasty in asking her to open her eyes. They didsomething to him and he found it hard to concentrate.

"So, three months of me," he smiled. "Has it been satisfactory for you?" Please say yes.

"Quite satisfactory, sir," she replied with a serious expression. Thank god, he thought.

"Is there anything that you found unsatisfactory, Ms. Steele?"

She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she considered her next comment. He lost himself in that lip. "Well, there is something you did once that I found that I liked. It surprised me that I did and rather alarmed me as it was more intimacy than I thought that I wanted." More intimacy, YES, he thought.

"What was that?"

"You kissed me. I don't know why. I was in the middle of an orgasm and you kissed me. At first, I was, as I said, alarmed but then realized that I liked it. Why did you kiss me and why have you not done so since?" She looked at him with big velvet blue eyes and he had to restrain himself from lunging at her across the desk.

"It was a simple reaction. I was aroused by your orgasm and felt the need to kiss you. I myself enjoyed it but haven't done so since because of your restrictions on intimacy. Do you want me to kiss you?" Please say yes.

"I believe that I would like to add that to our Red Room activities, yes," she said, so seriously. "I believe that we could keep it professional. Do you agree?"

"I agree," oh, lord, I agree. I'll agree with anything, he thought.

"Then we will add kissing to our activities. Now, is there anything else you would like to add and/or change?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been, hmm, gentler with me in the Red Room. Is that your intention or a misperception of mine?"

"Hmm…in general, I would say that I have been less harsh than initially. I believe that this is due to your influence."

"Mine!?" she asked confused.

"Yes. You see when you began with me, I had been without a sub for almost a month. My previous 2 subs had been dismissed for inappropriate attachment to me so I had, essentially, been without a satisfactory Red Room experience for at least 2 months. Work at GEH had been especially tough and I was in a bad mood. My need for release was intense and thus my sessions with you were intense. As our association continued and it was pleasurable, my need for release lessened and, I suppose, my Red Room sessions were not as harsh.

Since you are without limits and have explained your need for pain, is this new approach insufficient for your needs?" Oh, god, please say no.

Steele didn't answer for some time. She sat looking down, still biting on that damn lower lip.

"Hmmm…this is a hard one for me to answer. Our initial sessions were quite calming for me as I arrived with such a heavy heart. However, I believe that I felt calmer as time went on and didn't notice, at first, that 12 blows had become 6. After a session, in my room, I would consider how I felt. I realized that although the activities were less painful, I didn't notice a decrease in my relaxation level.

I am wondering if feeling safe here and enjoying your company has given me enough feeling of calmness that I do not need tenser sessions in the playroom."

"So," hoped Grey, "you are content with the current level of activity in the Red Room?"

"I believe so, sir, although I do not quite understand why or if my present level of need will continue."

"Well, as your Dom, it is my choice what we do sexually and how rough I want it, with safe words applying, of course. I am happy with things as they are. Let's agree to play it by ear, ok?"

"Yes, agreed, sir. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?" she quietly asked.

"Yes, and this is of some importance. I find that I wish to take you to dinner. Your response?"

"You want to go on a date? With your sub?"

"Yes, you are a beautiful woman and I wish to show you off. Being seen in public with a woman would perhaps get the press off my back about my sexual orientation. Is this a deal breaker for you?"

"It would violate my need for anonymity and privacy, sir. I will need some time to consider this."

"Of course, there is no hurry. So, are we agreed that the contract will be extended?"

"Yes, for how long?" asked Steele.

"I am relaxed, without tension and trust that you will not be asking for "more" so I have no deadline in mind. Shall we leave it open-ended?"

Steele looked surprised, her dazzling blue eyes wide with wonder. He tried not to stare but oh, my lord, she was killing him. And again with the damn lip biting. First chance he had that lip was his. He truly could not see a deadline in the future. There might be one but it was not now apparent to him. He just knew that he wanted to continue. Steele didn't realize that she was now in complete control.

"You haven't answered me, Ms. Steele. I'm rather on pins and needles over here."

"You want to go on a date with me and you want to see me every weekend for the foreseeable future, correct?"

"Yes, that would please me. I am also prepared to offer you a raise as I believe is customary for employees after a period of performing well for one's employer. How does $60,000 a week sound?" He didn't care if more money swung the deal his way. He didn't care if that was her sole motivation. He just needed her to stay. Wait… _needed?_

She was simply staring at him in puzzlement. She hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow at the offer of a $20,000 raise. Dating and no deadline could mean the inevitable end to her need for privacy.

"Mr. Grey, your proposals…and I'm not referring to the raise…could, probably will, lead to a closer relationship, a meaningful relationship, which is not what I had in mind when I decided to accept Mrs. Lincoln's suggestion that I sub. I know, from what she's told me, that you have never had a girlfriend and have never wanted one which is why you prefer short term arrangements."

"That is true but I have had subs that lasted a year so occasionally I do find one who is quite compatible, as you are."

Steele continued to gaze downward, biting her lip. "I do like you and you've been respectful of my needs. I assume that will continue and you will adapt if I have objection to anything. Correct?"

"You understand, do you not, Ms. Steele, that it is the sub who has all the power in the relationship?"

"Hmm... I guess. Hmmm, I will continue as your sub and I will consider your suggestion of a date. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Most assuredly, you have pleased me and, therefore, as a reward, you may take 4 hours break on Saturday. Please do whatever makes you happy." He beamed at her. He could have jumped for joy on his couch like Tom Cruise on Oprah. He mentally fist-pumped in victory. He whirledabout in his desk chair. But on the surface, he simply asked her to meet him in the Red Room in 5 minutes.

Steele nodded obediently, eyes down and left to undress.

All he could think was that she was his. Mine, he kept saying to himself, mine.

However, he did know that there was someone else who thought the same thing and who intended to prove it.

JOEY

For some time, Ana had thought that the residential center for children like Joey was just an afterthought by the hospital board. She had attended meetings….or burst into them….insisted on speaking with the hospital president sans appointment and invited herself to board meetings. She was an annoying gadfly but she was beautiful and persistent and kind. It was impossible for people to be angry with her for her lack of manners.

These children, she pointed out time and again, are born, live and die in this hospital. They should be given better lives than the hospital allowed. The hospital argument was always the same. Hospital resources are limited and needed to be spent on those who could really benefit, i.e. those who could be fixed and sent home. These children, like Joey, were born terminal and were, in effect, warehoused until their defective hearts ceased beating. Besides, every single one of them were born brain damaged and were unaware of their circumstances. Their lives… lived out in one room, one crib…. meant nothing to them.

Ana never believed this. Her son understood that she was his mother. He felt the sun on his face and he laughed when she tickled him. He listened when music was played and he loved to cuddle. So many of the children were alone most of the time. Even their parents had given up on them. As one mother put it to Ana, she had three healthy children at home who needed all the time she had left after a 40 hour a week job, keeping house and trying to hold the rest of her life together. Why would she waste any time coming to the hospital and spending time with a drooling, blank-eyed, physically twisted up child who didn't know who she was? It was bad enough that so much of their income went to house this child.

Ana spent every spare moment with Joey. Except for her day job, her weekend job and a few hours to wash clothes and keep the house, she was always with Joey and yet she never felt that it was enough. Nothing gave her greater pleasure than to walk into the center, singing "where's my Joey Bear. I must have a bite of my Joey Bear." He knew her voice and would immediately begin shaking in his crib, waving his crippled arms about, grinning and laughing. When her face would appear above his crib, he would scream with joy. She would lean down, gently wipe the drool from his face, and check his diaper. He would usually be at least wet, often soiled, because there wasn't enough help in this unit and everyone figured that the kids didn't know the difference anyway. So, they all got changed on a schedule; every four hours. When Ana pointed out that Joey had developed a diaper rash from lying around for who knows how long in a soaked diaper, she heard the usual. He was unaware.

So, Ana picked up her son, changed his diaper, applied a soothing oil and talc and put him into a clean diaper. Then she put on a new outfit and said to him…hmmm…you're good enough to eat and he would laugh. She'd scoop him up and sit in the rocker with him, cuddling, kissing, singing, talking to him about her day and telling him stories. The nurses admired her dedication but they repeatedly reminded her that he understood nothing. Then she would remind them that it was they who understood nothing.

The only person she liked on the peds floor was Dr. Trevelyan who stood with her when she complained to the hospital board and always found time for a visit when she knew Ana would be there. Grace helped her to organize fund raisers and persuade the board to agree to purchases for the ward. With Ana's money and, of course, the administrations approval, a special rubber carpeting had been purchased to cover the hard tile. Ana would put down little rugs and then a child from each crib would be given a place on the floor in a circle. She would try to gather enough volunteers for each child and she would call parents and invite them to the Sunday afternoon gathering. She would provide refreshments that she'd baked and she would make sure that each child was bathed and put into a clean outfit. The babies, the youngest only 5 months, the oldest 5 years, would giggle and laugh as Ana sang to them and told stories with giant story books. She would move the books around so each child could see the bright pictures.

The parents who did come could see that their children were sentient human beings, aware and interested. This would encourage them to come more often. It was also intended to make the nursing staff also recognize that they were caring for real people. Each child was different except in one respect…they were happy and good natured. They didn't know that they were ugly.

But Ana wanted more for them. More room. More light. The only light in the room came from the fluorescent lights above. She would take Joey out into the day and watch him thrill at the sight of sun and rain. She wasn't allowed, of course, to take out the other children.

The room adjacent to the center was a storeroom. It had a window because, of course, brooms needed natural light. Ana wanted to take down the wall, bust out the outside wall to put in a wall of glass and somehow an outdoor space for the children to feel air and breezes on their faces. She'd been saving. It took most of her weekly check just to pay for Joey's care but now she could save the extra and perhaps convince the hospital to do the work she wanted done.

She was surprised to admit to herself that she was happy lately….and that Christian Grey had much to do with that. He was so good to her, so affectionate and interested in her, that she had to keep reminding herself that he was, in effect, her boss. She must never forget, she told herself, that the money...and the man…could disappear at any time. Everything could. Nothing was sacred or lasting. She was walking a tightrope without a net. Her only option was to be very careful. She had Joey but was otherwise alone. And the man who gave her Joey was always looking for her.

He was in the shadows. He had a knife this time, large enough to slice her open, to slice her in half, in fact. He was grim and angry and determined. She was walking as fast as she could but Joey was heavy. Then there was a wall in front of them. She held Joey high in the air and tried to throw him over the wall but he was too heavy and her arms too weak from lack of food. She had used every dime to feed Joey. The man was breathing heavy and muttering that Joey was a thing that needed to be put down and then….there was another man. This one was in the light, shaking her gently.

She woke, breathing heavy and sweating, her pillow soaked. She was disoriented. She couldn't see the man in the dark anymore and she couldn't find Joey. She panicked, pushing the man in the light away and running from wall to wall. Which wall was it that she left Joey at? Joey, Joey, call to Momma.

"Anastasia Rose, wake up! See me! You're alright. You're safe."

Steele looked into the gray eyes of Sir. "I'm safe?" "Yes," he said. "I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"But Joey. I can't find Joey. You won't protect him. He's ugly. I need Joey."

Grey held her in his arms for a long while as she cried for Joey. She'd never mentioned a Joey and who was after the both of them?

After a while, she fell asleep again, in utter exhaustion. He picked her up and tucked her back into bed. It was against protocol but screw the rules. He crawled under the covers with her and held her for the rest of the night. She'd been screaming so loudly that he could hear all the way down the hall and in his bedroom behind the stairs. How many times, he wondered, had she had this nightmare when he didn't hear?

Saturday morning he found her in the kitchen. She kept her eyes down.

"There was something I neglected to mention during our negotiations last night, Ms. Steele.

"Sir?" she asked.

"I would like to discontinue the usual protocol of subs not looking at their Doms without permission. As you have beautiful eyes, it would be against my best interest to neglect looking at them."

She smiled. "Well, supporting your best interest is part of my duties as your sub…" She looked up into his grey eyes and he had to stop himself from gasping. Would he ever get used to those stunning ocean orbs?"

"You know," she said, "this way I get to look into your stunning grey eyes as well. Win...Win.

Now would you like pancakes, blueberry, with bacon and juice for breakfast?"

"Not sure about the bacon."

"Protein, sir."

"Ok, bacon. Am I allowed a cup of coffee as well. Hard night. You might have noticed that I was in your bed when you woke up?" he prodded.

"Yes, you're very warm. Wouldn't need a blanket with you wrapped around me. May I ask why the break in protocol?"

"You don't remember anything? Screaming about a man hurting you, looking frantically for Joey?"

Steele dropped the cup of coffee she was holding, watching it smash in slow motion at her feet and splashing hot coffee on her. She didn't realize that she was shaking violently either. She simply stood there as Grey rushed around the side of the breakfast bar and poured cold water on a rag, wrapping it around her ankles. Then he put his hands on either side of her face and spoke softly to her as she shook. Finally her eyes closed, he picked her up and carried her to the couch. He kept talking to her until she opened her eyes again. Her eyes were brimming with tears while her face was placid and her voice calm as she assured Grey that she was fine and so sorry for her clumsiness.

He checked her ankles again, went into a cabinet and returned with antibiotic ointment which he applied to her burns.

"They aren't serious but they're probably going to hurt a bit when the shock wears off." He considered her for a moment. Then he asked. What was the dream about? Who was Joey? When you wake up screaming in the night and go into shock when asked about it, we've gone beyond your need for privacy, don't you think? Something is wrong and as your Dom, I need to be helping you with it." This was bull and he knew it but he'd use anything he had to get her to talk to him.

"I have a 5-year-old son who lives at Seattle General in a special ward for children who require constant hospitalization. His father is a man who raped me repeatedly when I was sixteen. Joey has cerebral palsy, a respiratory disorder, brain damage, a defective heart and more. His father kicked me in the stomach, put poison in a drink, forced liquor down my throat, starved me and used other methods to cause a miscarriage but Joey was born anyway. He's a fighter. But he needed to stay in the hospital to stay alive.

The man in the shadows is, I imagine, Joey's father. He said that he had to kill Joey because he is an embarrassment to his manhood. I think that I've had the nightmare often but I usually go back to sleep and forget about it. Sometimes I wake, finding myself in a corner of the room or in the closet. I suppose then I've had the dream.

I apologize, sir, for waking you and disturbing your rest. Also, for breaking your mug."

"We're going to talk about this but, first thing, I would like to amend the portion of the contract that requires us to call each by 'Sir' and 'Ms. Steele'. We fuck each other's brains out multiple times a weekend. That seems personal enough for me to call you Ana and you to call me Christian. He had to laugh. They sure do a lot of amending.

Now about this Joey. When are you going to introduce me?"

"I don't know, Sir, I mean, Christian. It can be a shock to first meet a child like this."

"So, I'll be shocked and then I'll get over it. Are you afraid this is crossing your privacy line?"

"I'm frightened that I'll open my life to you and be ruined by it."

"I have the same fear. I'll be honest with you, Ana. Except for my family, I've never opened up to anyone, not even Elena, although she seems to think that beating me and fucking me for 6 years makes us confidants.

CHANGE OF STATUS

He took a deep, ragged breath. He wanted…More. And this could drive her away.

"I'll be honest with you about something else, too. I don't want to hit you...at all. I will if you want me to but I just don't have it in me anymore. I'm not angry or filled with tension and on Friday's I look forward to getting home to talk to you about our days. Flogging you doesn't cross my mind. It used to. I couldn't wait to beat the living shit out of someone but not with you. Thoughts?"

Don't think. Don't think, Ana. Just agree, please just agree.

"Well, I'm a bit unsure about my ability to navigate my life without pain to hide behind but I'm willing to try. So, what does this mean? If I'm not your sub, what am I and for what am I being paid? And what are my hours? And duties? What am I, Christian?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I've never had a relationship with a woman that didn't involve whips and canes, ropes and floggers. But no one hits my girl, including me."

"I can still cook on the weekends. I can still show up at 8:30. Can I still satisfy you sexually?

"Oh, now that I'll have to think about," he chuckled, "but could I pick you up from work or the hospital? I'd like to meet Joey."

Ana got very quiet. "Honey," Christian asked quietly, loving getting to say Honey, "what's troubling you?"

"Christian, you proposed paying me $60,000 a week for being your sub. If you continue paying me, that makes me your prostitute, doesn't it?"

"If you are my girlfriend, then I want to take care of you and Joey. What did you use the money for anyway?"

"Hospital bills, mostly, and the rest I've been saving for the makeover I want at the hospital."

"What kind of makeover?"

"The residency center is too small and down on the priority list with toilet tissue. I want to knock out a wall to double the space and knock out an outside wall to put in lots of windows and maybe even an outdoor space for the kids so they can get some air so I've been saving up for that."

"Well, you know, my family has paid for half that hospital since my mother started working there. There ought to be Trevelyan Wing, by now. So, let's take a look at that when youintroduce me to Joey."

"Trevelyan?! Is your mother Dr. Grace Trevelyan!?"

"Yes, have you met?"

"She's my biggest supporter and the only one who truly understands my frustration at the way that these children are treated. And she's married to Carrick Grey. Oh, my lord, I never made the connection between Mr. Grey and Mr. Grey. How could I be so stupid!?"

"How do you know my dad?"

"Oh, this is going to get awkward. I'm a paralegal and at the office I'm a green-eyed redhead…."

"…..and the finest paralegal my dad has ever had," finished Christian. " Yeah, I've heard all about you from both parents at Sunday dinner."

For several minutes, the two just sat on the couch marveling at the connection.

"Do you think I'll still have a job after your father finds out I've been deceiving him?"

"There might be some initial surprise but then I think that he'll think it's funny. Why did you disguise yourself?"

"When I came to town, I was hiding from Joey's father."

"Who is his father?"

"A vicious, dangerous man, Christian."

"Yeah, I got that from the rape, beating and poison part of the story. I want to get this man and make sure that he's out of your life and Joey's."

"No, Christian, I've dodged him for 5 years, since just before Joey was born. I don't want to find him. It might mean him finding me."

"Honey, I have people who can find him without him knowing we're even looking."

"Yeah, and then what do we do? We'd need evidence to put him away and I know him…even from jail, he'd get to us."

"Ana, we at least have to know where he is right now so we can keep tabs on him. We don't want him suddenly popping up on us, do we?"

"I suppose you are right about that. I live in fear of him. All right. His name is Stephen Morton and his last known address was Montesano, my hometown. My parents still live there so he might still be there, hoping that I'll contact them."

"Okay." Christian pushed a speed dial on his iPhone and connected to Welch, his private investigator. "Welch, I want you to find the whereabouts of a thug named Stephen Morton, last known residence, Montesano, WA. This is a top priority. Yeah."

"Now, my beautiful girlfriend, there is one more thing we have to do. It's a tough one, baby."

Ana giggled. It was the first time anyone called her 'baby'. She liked it. She also liked being called girlfriend. She'd never before been and she'd never made love. She'd been raped and fucked. She wondered what it would like to be someone's special someone.

"We have to go to Sunday dinner at my parent's house. If you want to, we can take Joey."

"No, we could never transport all his equipment. I usually leave at the end of visiting hours at 8:00 so I'll go over early in the morning instead.

Golly, this is happening so fast. I'm not a contractual sub anymore. I'm a multi-billionaire's girlfriend."

"And he's crazy about you."

Ana blushed at his words and then felt that she had to remind Christian. " I don't bring much to the table. I'm basically poor. I have a badly handicapped son. I'm the target of a major bad guy. I have nightmares."

"Yeah, I guess I am getting the short-stick in this deal," he teased. " I do, however, come with a truck load of baggage including psychological screw-ups. Yet, I get a smart, kind, beautiful, sexy lover who wants me and would want me even if I were poor."

"How do you know that's true? I've been taking you for $40,000 a week."

"Well, I know that she's really proud and I'm going to have a terrible time getting her to agree to some other conditions."

"Other conditions?"

"Girlfriend conditions are different from sub conditions but can be just as stringent as those of a sub's contract. For instance, I want to live with my girlfriend. I know that she's incredibly independent and lacking in trust so wanting her to give up some of that independence is a big ask. She'll say something like, "what if you change your mind in a week, etc." stuff like that. So, convincing her that I'll be lonely without her and that having her now, weekends just won't suit anymore…will take some fancy talk.

Also, I'll want to take care of her so that means taking care of Joey and his hospital bills and the makeover….all of which she's used to doing so there's more fancy talking.

I had a terrible time talking her into a weekend CPO when she was my sub and had to obey me so you can only imagine the trouble I'm going to have talking her into full-time protection.

Then there all the extra duties involved in being a girlfriend as opposed to being a submissive."

Ana eyed him suspiciously. "Such as….."

"Well, subs were to stay out of the way and be a secret part of my life. Girlfriends are like way out there in front and this particular girlfriend is breathtaking so I'll want to show her off but more than that, I won't want to go to boring functions alone anymore. The Coping Together Gala is coming up and getting my low-key girl to a fancy ball may take medication."

Ana looked at him in horror. "Do I have to go shopping? Do I have to wear stilettoes for hours?"

"Nope, I have a personal shopper, Caroline Acton, who will take and keep your measurements on file and send over a clothing selection so you can choose. Also, if you want to wear ballet flats to every damn event that's okay by me.

Now, there's one more thing that comes to mind that is of utmost importance and non-negotiable. My girlfriend has to sleep with me and since I've never slept with anyone in my bed, I have no idea what kind of experience that might be. Perhaps I suffer from major night time flatulence. Maybe I snore. Maybe I hog the covers. Maybe I kick people out of bed. The possibilities are endless but I need my girl with me."

"I _have_ slept with you. You don't hog the covers but you certainly do hog the girl. There's no chance of ever being kicked out of bed. You wrap yourself around your girl and never let go. I didn't notice snoring or flatulence but I suppose as we grow older, it might become a problem…for both of us," giggled Ana uncontrollably. "But, yeah, I'll sleep in your bed. It'll be easier than climbing the stairs at night."

"Well, good to know that there's something in it for you," growled Christian.

SUNDAY

Christian could not remember ever having slept so well in his life. No nightmares. Sleeping deeply and straight through 'til morning. It was after 9 am. so he knew that on weekdays he'd have to leave the curtains open so that he would awake at a decent hour. Ana was still tucked into him, her head under his chin, her hands curled up against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her. So, kicking her out of bed would not be an issue, he smiled to himself.

Three months ago he was a lonely, angry man who didn't know he could be any other way. He would just get another sub, beat her up until he felt some relief and go on with his life. Now it was as if life just opened up to him. All things were possible.

He noticed that his phone was blinking quietly on the night stand. He didn't want to release Ana to pick it up but it might be Welch.

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"You still asleep?" Welch asked in astonishment.

"My girlfriend is. Whadda ya got?"

"Girlfriend? Did you say girlfriend? Good grief. Hell _has_ frozen over."

"Talk."

"Morton is a special case, all right. For the past 5 years, he's been in and out of jail. Your basic career criminal except that this one is vicious. No petty thievery here. He just keeps beating up people, mostly women. He likes to commit rape a lot, too, and then get off because the women are too afraid to testify. It did look like he was going away for one rape but while he was in jail awaiting trial, the girl disappeared. They found her later in a shallow grave. So apparently he has some loyal, vicious friends as well.

He is currently out on bail for beating up some guy in a bar fight. The guy, also a dumb ass, called him a faggot because he supposedly has a handicapped kid out there in the world somewhere.Some real deep thinkers out that way."

"Okay, I want you to keep constant tabs on him. Never lose him. My girlfriend is the one with his kid and he'd like to kill them both…so you understand the importance of always knowing where he is, Welch."

"No confusion here. I'll stay in touch. Tell your girlfriend that this guy still lives in the old neighborhood so no coming home for visits, okay?"

Christian tossed the phone back onto the night stand and relaxed back into the pillows, holding Ana. He was getting hungry but that urge was fighting his morning wood urge which was fighting his cuddle with his Ana urge. Too many choices, all perfect. He decided to just lie there until Ana woke up and settled it for him.

Two orgasms, one blow job later, Ana decided on breakfast. She wanted to get over to the hospital. Knowing Morton was jailed in Montesano, Christian relented on Ana walking to Seattle General. It was an exceptionally beautiful day so Ana went skipping off to the hospital around 11:30, promising to return in time to start dinner. Then Christian would go back to the hospital with Ana to meet Joey. He stood on the balcony, sipping his coffee and humming some sappy love song.

Good grief, it stuck him. I'm in love. Me. Christian Trevelyan Grey. Asshole extraordinaire. It had to be all Ana, he thought. Like some magic spell, she pulled love out of a man who didn't believe it could ever be possible. Elena had told him that he was meant to be a great titan and men like that didn't have energy or time for simple things like being in love. For so long, he'd thought her to be correct. Wouldn't she be pissed to know that _she'd_ sent him the love of his life?

Speak of the devil, Elena was at the moment downstairs arguing with the security guard about being granted access to the elevator to the 20th floor. "She wants up, sir, but she isn't on the visitor's list. What should I do?"

Oh, well, thought Christian, Ana wasn't home so why not one last chat. He could tell Elena how much things had changed and to not bother him in the future. "Send her up, Charlie," he answered, sounding bored.

A few moments later, leather cat suit creaking and six-inch stilettoes clacking on the marble floors, Elena strode in as if she owned the place. She not-so-secretly felt that she did. She had found it for him and advised him to purchase it and, of course, it was her tutelage of him through the years that made his wealth possible….so she fervently believed.

"Why does my code no long work, Christian?" she demanded indignantly.

"We had a break-in, Elena, and had to change all the codes and the way we use them now. How are you and what can I do for you on this glorious day?"

She looked at him with some disdain and then around the penthouse. "Is she in her room?"

"Is who in her room?" he asked innocently.

"Your new playmate. It is Sunday morning. She shouldn't have left as yet unless you've changed your hours?"

"As a matter of fact, Elena, I have changed my hours. Now what can I do for you?"

"You didn't answer my question. Where is your sub, Ms. Steele? I have no wish to disturb your playtime."

"You didn't disturb a thing, Elena. Again, what can I do for you besides, it appears, keep you apprised of my sub's comings and goings?"

Finally, accepting that he wasn't going to answer her, she got to her point. She wanted Ana back. She'd had a very good offer from a very wealthy man in Paraguay who was also prepared to make it worth Christian's while to release Ana to him.

Christian laughed in derision at Elena's suggestion. "What possible offer could a man make me, a multi-billionaire? And what line of bull did you give about Ana to get him to make an offer at all? Elena, I think that you are lying to me."

"What is about Ana that makes you so hell bent on me _returning_ her to you? 'Cause you know what? I don't believe anymore that you have all these offers for an unknown first-timer. I think, Elena, that you have seen from the beginning that I might want to keep her and every time I keep someone, you are out a commission. I've done a bit of digging that shows that none of your clients hang to their new subs very long. Thus, enabling you to offer them an even better deal for, of course, a new commission"

"Tell me, Elena, have you checked into your off-shore accounts lately? You know, the ones where you keep all the money you've been skimming off the profits from the salons all the while asking me for more and more money to keep you afloat? You think I haven't noticed or found out that expensive salons like Esclava shouldn't have such a difficult time making a go of it?"

Elena was soon frantically checking her off-short accounts on her iPhone, only to discover that all the funds had recently been transferred elsewhere. Her face contorted, purple with rage. She turned on Christian. "That money was mine. I earned it!"

"Yes, by stealing it and keeping a double set of books. The IRS was very curious as to why an elite salon at the Bravern Center was always operating in the red. I have reported the discrepancies to them and they are interested in speaking to you. Meanwhile, your notes on both salons have come due as has the note on your home's second mortgage. Your misbehavior is catching up to you, Elena." He chuckled wickedly at her. Her purple visage was evolving into a vomit-like sort ofgreen.

"You can at least return my property to me," Elena whined.

"What property is that?"

"Why, Ana, of course. Is she upstairs? I'll take her now."

"Good grief, Elena, you don't _own_ these young women. You simply act as a go-between.

And if Ana belongs to anybody, it is to me as I do to her. We've just agreed on an extended contract. Besides, I think that she has her .357 magnum with her and that appears to be a new handbag you're carrying." He was now laughing out loud.

"But, Christian darling," Elena's tone could have frozen fire, " you do belong to me as you always have. I built you step by step into the man you are today. Everything you are and do and own is mine. It pains me greatly that you do not see this or honor me as your creator. For that refusal, you will pay."

Abruptly, Elena turned on her heel and strode onto the elevator.

Christian speed dialed Welch and conferenced in Taylor as well. He advised them to assign coverts to watch Elena on a 24/7 basis. It wouldn't be long before she tried something. He was unfortunately correct.

Around 4:15, Christian was getting antsy. He was anxious to see Ana but he supposed that she'd lost track of the time while with Joey. At 4:30, Christian was getting concerned so he called her phone….only to hear it ringing on the kitchen counter where Ana was using it to mark her place in a cookbook. At 4:45 he called the hospital. The operator didn't know precisely when Ana had left but she had mentioned something about stopping at Mike's for the chocolate cake Christian liked. At 5:00 just as he was tearing out his hair, ready to either strangle or embrace his girlfriend with relief, the elevator pinged. Christian stood, fists on hips, ready to yell when the doors slid open and a small woman he barely recognized lurched two steps forward and crumpled to the floor.

She'd left the house in a white summer dress that was now quite red with blood. He tore open the flimsy material to reveal that she'd been beaten with a steel spiked cane from her neck down to her feet. Only the tops of her feet had been spared but that was because the bottoms were flayed. Her face had been stuck repeatedly and was swollen and bruised almost beyond recognition.

He screamed in terror and Taylor came running. "Elena" was all Christian said and Taylor immediately put men on her. She would not get away. Taylor was inclined to see that she was accidentally killed before the day was out. Christian picked up Ana and moved her to their bed. He covered her in soaking wet towels to sop up the blood. Then he called his mother, urging her to bring her bag and come without asking why.

Grace was fearful that Christian had gotten carried away in his playroom. Why else would he not call the police or take his sub to a hospital?

By the time Grace arrived, Christian had cleaned up much of the blood but Ana was a horrible sight to behold. Christian had never used the spiked cane. It was too brutal… but Elena had used it on him. He remembered screaming in agony and having to sneak into the house to avoid having his parents see his bloody clothes.

Grace went to work examining each and every wound. There were so many. The girl must have been beaten for over an hour in addition to having her face slapped and backhanded to cause this much bruising. Her eyes were swollen shut.

Suddenly, having done all she could do, Grace looked closely at the sub's face and gasped. It couldn't be, she thought.

"Christian, what is this girl's name?"

"Ana. Why do you look like that? Mom, are you ok?"

Grace was horrified that her son could have done this to the lovely woman she knew as Ana. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd nearly killed her, for god's sake. She tried to maintain her professional demeanor but this was _her_ son and his sub….. ANA!? She demanded that he give up the life NOW.

Christian had to explain that it wasn't he who had beaten Ana. He loved her and they had ended their contractual arrangement or, rather, amended it to girlfriend/boyfriend. No, this damage was done by his dealer, he was certain, because Christian would not 'return' what this person considered her property.

Grace was relieved beyond measure to find that her son was _not_ a sadist and that he had actually fallen in love and with Ana, of all people. But, still, an ambulance should be called.

Christian explained about Morton, who would undoubtedly notice an article about Christian Grey's girlfriend in the Seattle Nooz and other publications. Ana couldn't be exposed. Nor could Joey. Christian would bring in whatever medical equipment and personnel necessary but this must be kept on the down low.

The guard downstairs explained to Christian that Ana had simply been dumped out of a black SUV in front of the building and she had staggered over to Charlie and asked him to help her into the elevator. She had refused medical help and had simply insisted that he allow her to get into the penthouse. She had apparently managed to stand just long enough to fall out of the elevator.

She came to at one point and smiled at Christian as best she could do. "It's okay," she consoled him," I tranced out and didn't feel anything after the first few minutes." Christian oh so gently caressed her face and said, "I love you," over and over again as tears fell down his face. "Yes, Elena…." she struggled to whisper when asked who had caned her. "Said you wouldn't want me when she'd finished with me."

"I'll always want you, always, no matter what. Don't leave me, please, Ana. I'll always be sorry and I'll never deserve you, Ana, but I'm also a desperate and selfish man who'll keep you anyway I can."

It was then that Christian noticed that his mother had gone quite white. He moved to her side and put his arm around her.

"I'm sorry, Mom. "I never wanted you to know that Elena is a sociopath."

"Sociopath! Don't you mean psychopath! I don't understand why she would _do_ this to Ana."

"She feels," he explained, " that any sub she sent out was simply on loan and should be returned at her request. This beating was her way of making that point."

Grace brought in a plastic surgeon and an anesthesiologist, working side by side. Thankfully, Ana had no broken bones and all injuries were as superficial as possible under the circumstances. By nightfall, she was repaired, bandaged and sedated.

Grey put guards on Joey Steele and alerted Welch to keep a close eye on Morton who was currently getting blotto in a local Montesano bar. Elena had tried to get on a plane to Paraguay but was instead escorted to her home where she was incarcerated in her dungeon until other plans could be made. Christian wanted to see her face when she realized that she wasn't getting away but he was afraid that he would kill her so he let her be for now. There were no bathroom facilities in the dungeon which would at the least make it an uncomfortable night for her.

Christian took up vigil in a chair next to the bed and watched Ana for hours for any sign of distress. A nurse was also present and Ana was hooked to a couple of IVs and a blood pressure monitor. The nurse and Grace assured him that Ana would be alert in the morning. But all of their reassurances were useless to Christian. He looked at her face and he remembered the agony of the spiked cane. Elena's vicious delight in wielding the cane, esp. at his groin, was embedded in his brain. She cackled as she drew back her arm and brought the cane down on him as hard as possible for the crime of getting a 'B' instead of an 'A'. How much more motivated and angry she must have been while beating Ana.

He jumped to his feet and flew to the toilet, emptying his stomach. He knelt heaving first bile and then just dry heaving until he thought he'd faint. No one, least of all him, would ever hit his girl again, he'd promised Ana. And then Elena had beaten her within an inch of her life. If he could be in 2 places at once, he'd stay with Ana while he beat Elena with a spiked cane in her dungeon. But, no, he couldn't leave Ana. He flushed the toilet and brushed his mouth and then returned to her bedside, taking his chair and staring.

The nurse looked up in surprise, as did Grace, when Christian began to sing to Ana. Grace had never heard her son sing, didn't know that he could…and so beautifully. He sang several songs until he couldn't without crying. 'I've got you under my skin'…'You are so beautiful, to me'…and the loveliest…

Day by day, I'm falling more in love with you

And day by day, my love seems to grow

There isn't any end to my devotion

It's deeper, dear, by far than any ocean

I find that day by day you're making all my dreams come true

And day by day, I want you to know

I'm yours alone and I'm in love to stay

As we go through the years day by day

Here, after singing this to Ana, Christian broke down. He felt all the years of pain and aloneness that he'd lived and never expected 'more'. He'd known so many women, intimately, or so he thought and none had touched his heart, the heart he came to believe he didn't have. He couldn't return to that land of nothing. Once your heart has loved, there is no going back.

He took hold of Ana's hand and held it against his heart, his lips and then his heart again. Fear was a black cloud over him. He begged her silently, over and over, don't leave me, don't leave me. He took a pillow and laid it gently on Ana's stomach and then laid his head down and slept.

Grace called Carrick to tell him where she was and what had happened and that she'd decided to stay the night….as much for Christian as for Ana.

There was light in the room from the window and a gentle hand weaving through his hair. He opened his gray eyes to look into Ana's blue eyes, even if they were only slits at the moment. He sighed, feeling her hand on his head and not remembering for a moment where he was or why. Then it all came crashing back. He slowly raised his head and kissed her hand. He said nothing, only looked at her. When she closed her eyes again, he looked fearfully at his mother who waschecking Ana's blood pressure.

"125/90. That's relatively good, Christian," Grace smiled. " Now move a bit so I can check her wounds."

He took the pillow and stood aside as Grace lowered the blanket and begin her examination. Some of the wounds were still oozing. Grace cleaned them again and applied more medication and bandages. "Not bad," she whispered. "Thank god, those spikes were small. Any longer they could have done quite serious damage."

"That's the idea, Mom. They are supposed to cause great pain with little permanent damage. Wouldn't want to kill a sub. Most Doms don't even use spiked canes because they can cause subs to die from shock and no, Mom, I've never used one."

"Seeing this, Christian, I wonder how you could ever have been a Dom. The son I think of as my sweet little boy…"

"I know enjoying pain and subjugation seems unfathomable to you, Mom, but it is the free choice of many. My subs wanted it and when I was a sub, I wanted it. Ana wanted it. It reduces the pain in one's life to a simple thing in place of the mass of jumbled pain that lived inside. And for Doms delivering that pain helps reduce the anger, the overriding tension, that takes over your life.

But I don't feel that way anymore. Ana isn't as far along as I am but having a deeply damaged child who is going to die sooner rather than later and being hunted by a man who wants to kill them both makes it hard for her to escape her pain. She's trying tho'….for me."

"Someone's hunting for them?" Grace gasped.

"Joey's father, the man who raped Ana and who had tried to kill Joey before he was born. We know who and where he is and we have eyes on him. He won't get near either one of them. And, Mom, we were going to tell you last night at dinner that we are together. Ana agreed to move in here and be my girlfriend and possibly let me take care of her and Joey although I might have imagined that last one," he chuckled. "She is independent and has abandonment issues. But she's it for me, Mom. I know. It all sounds crazy but I'm in love."

"Balderdash. Took you three months. Took your dad one hour. He announced, didn't ask, announced an hour into our first date that I was it for him. Took him a little longer to convince me," she laughed.

"Another thing. Ana is a little worried about being fired."

"Why? Where does she work?" asked Grace

"Carrick, Smith & Charles. She's the finest paralegal Dad's ever had but…."

"She's the…" Grace roared with glee. "Please have her wear the disguise to dinner and whip it off during dessert," she continued laughing.

Ana surfaced for a few foggy minutes every hour or so. Grace assured Christian that her body was protecting her and when it felt well enough, Ana would be able to stay awake longer.

Christian was exhausted but he could not allow himself to sleep. He could only keep watch.

He reflected that he should have seen this coming, that he was a stupid man who still foolishly believed that Elena was human.

ELENA

Taylor knocked on his bedroom door and Christian reluctantly answered, knowing that he'd have to deal with Elena sooner rather than later.

"Sir, we have more information on Mrs. Lincoln's activities. In addition to acting as a madam for Doms in need of subs, she was using her business as a cover for dealing large scale sums of cocaine and heroin and for money laundering. We found evidence and documentation in both her home and office safes. On the charges for those alone, she could go away for several decades and since those are federal charges, she would have no chance at parole. An anonymous call to a detective I know and she would be picked up."

Her incarceration in her own dungeon could be explained by the company she keeps although she would surely attempt to convince the authorities that Grey's security team was responsible.

Taylor explained that all the men who took her into custody at the airport were wearing the uniforms of security officers of the airport. Christian had to smile at his right-hand man's thoroughness.

The alternative was to move Elena to a secure location and have her eliminated. No matter his fury, Grey could not bring himself to order a hit.

The third option, of course, would be to simply leave Elena trapped in the dungeon to starve. Her body might never be discovered and there would never be questions to answer. It was a very attractive option as it also involved a tremendous amount of suffering. However, Grey felt that always knowing that she was down there would too much burden to bear.

He agreed to option #1 and told Taylor to be careful, to make it appear that Elena had been outed by one of her former subs who knew the location of the dungeon.

His next problem was witnesses. Had there been any? Who had helped Elena kidnap Ana and force her into a position in which Elena could beat her because he knew that she had to have help. Ana would have fought like a wild cat.

Grey called Welch and asked for an update on the activities of Leila and Susannah.

"Well, it's odd but it appears that neither has left their apartments in days. I'm going to call in an anonymous welfare check to the SPD."

"Ok," agreed Grey, "call as soon as you know anything."

"Christian," called Grace, "Ana is waking again."

Christian raced into his bedroom to find Ana's eyes wide open and her hand reaching for his. "Christian," she pleaded with him, "don't go after Elena. What would I do if you went to jail? Please, Christian, promise me," Ana begged, becoming more distraught. "No, I promise," he said, kissing her. "I won't do anything that would take me away from you and Joey."

Then Ana tried to rise from the bed. Christian gently eased her back down. "I have to see Joey. He'll be looking for me. He won't understand why I'm not with him," she said, with tears filling her eyes.

Grace leaned over and smoothed Ana's troubled brow. "I'll go to see him every day until you are able to again. He knows me."

As Ana continued to struggle, Grace tried to reason with her. "Your face is quite badly bruised and swollen, dear. Joey might not even recognize you _or_ your appearance might frighten him. Please allow me to play grandma until you're better."

"A mirror, I need a mirror," demanded Ana.

"I don't want you to get upset, Ana," insisted Christian, "please wait a few days for the swelling to go down." "Mirror, mirror now," Ana insisted. Finally, knowing that it was useless to argue, Christian held a mirror in front of Ana's face. She studied her reflection for several minutes and then remarked, "Yikes. Okay, Grace, but I'll call him. We'll tell him that I've come down with a really bad case of flu and the hospital will not allow me to infect anyone else."

Then she looked with love at Christian. "How are _you_ , Mr. Grey?" she said, trying to smile. Christian endeavored to hold back a flood of tears threatening his composure.

"Better, now that you're awake. Ana, do you remember who helped Elena grab you?"

"Men, 2, just men. I didn't know them. She jabbed me with a needle and when I awoke, I wascuffed to the St. Andrew's cross. She asked me to whom I belonged and when I replied _me_ , she slapped my face over and over again. Then she asked me again, "who owns you?" and I said "people can't own other people, you stupid woman," and she said that she was going to mark me with her ownership and that no one would ever want me again and that you would find me repulsive. I told her that she didn't know you well. Then she went berserk and began hitting me.It was really hard for a while until I tranced out. Next thing I knew I was awake and on the sidewalk outside. Charlie wanted to call an ambulance but I insisted that he just put me on the elevator. I don't remember anything after that."

Christian leaned down and kissed her again. "You're really a sight, you know?" "Yeah, you just wait until I can fight back, mister," Ana warned him. A tear fell from his eye.

As Grace was leaving she remarked to Christian that he should be prepared. Ana might have disfigurement. "It doesn't matter to me, Mom, she'll still be beautiful."

TWO WEEKS LATER

"Walk faster, walk faster, Christian," urged Ana, as Christian carried her down the corridor.

"I'm going as fast as I can. You shouldn't have had that 2nd piece of pie, esp. since Elliot was diving for it at the time. You risked losing a hand, you know."

"Yes, well, you didn't have to insist on carrying me either. There was a wheelchair right next to the elevator, Thor."

As they approached the residential center, Ana began singing loudly, "Where is my Joey Bear? I need a bite of my Joey Bear," as Christian's grin nearly split his face. As they entered the room, they could hear squeals of joy and the crib shaking furiously. Christian leaned Ana over Joey's crib and Joey let out a scream of excitement that pierced Christian's eardrums.

He carefully lowered Ana to her feet, noting her wince, but the thrill on her face was indescribable. She picked up the 5-year-old and kissed him a dozen times all over his face as he laughed with delight. Then she teetered but Christian caught her and lowered her to the floor where he sat wide-legged behind her, against the wall. Ana leaned back on Christian and squeezed her son to her over and over while cooing at him.

Christian listened, his heart loving Ana more and more every second, seeing the love she had for her son. She had warned him that Joey was not an attractive child. Ana used the towel provided to her by a nurse to continually dry the drool dribbling out of Joey's grimace-like smile. Then she applied a thick layer of lip balm. Joey couldn't return his mother's hugs with his arms and hands curled into himself, frozen, but he could lean hard into her. His eyes were all over the place. But he certainly knew Ana and he certainly loved her.

He began to make a noise that Christian barely recognized as humming. "Which one?" asked

Ana. He made another noise and blinked and Ana began to sing "Someday my prince will come."

Christian had never heard her sing; her voice was soft and sweet. When she finished, she asked Joey if her prince had come and he laughed and squealed again. "Hey," complained Christian," I thought I was your prince."

Ana leaned back and looked up at Christian and beamed, "You are my king. You hold the keys to the kingdom of happiness where the prince and I reside." Then she sang another song. During each song, Joey was quiet, still, just looking at his mother and listening. When she finished singing, Ana asked him if he wanted to hear a story so she placed Joey on the floor and reached under his crib for a Dr. Seuss book, again anyone could see that Joey understood and enjoyed the story. Ana read the story upside down while Joey held his eyes fairly steady, actually moving them to the other page when Ana changed sides.

After a couple of hours, Christian could see that Ana was tired. When he kissed her forehead, it felt warm so he asked one of the nurses to take her temperature and it was indeed elevated. Joey couldn't keep _his_ eyes open either so Christian gently lifted him and set him back in his crib. Then he asked for the head nurse of the department. He asked her if the department was fully staffed and she shrugged. "Of course not. A full staff cost money and this department doesn't make money for the hospital." She told him that they could use at least 4 more nurses. Christian nodded and leaned down to tell Ana to put her arms around his neck as he picked her up. Then he told the head nurse that he'd get her more help if she'd change Joey's diaper.

Once in the Mercedes SUV, Christian ordered Taylor to go straight to Grey Manor. He carried a sleeping Ana into the house and called for his mother.

"Her temp was over 100 degrees at the hospital. She was fine this morning."

Grace patted his shoulder and said that Ana probably had a low-grade infection. She took her temp again and it was down to just under 100. "She'll be fine with some rest. She still isn't fully healed, you know, and this outing just wore her out. Give us some privacy while I check her wounds."

"Mom, I've seen more of her body than you. I'm staying."

Grace scoffed and then went over every inch of Ana's body, head to toe, finding several broken stitches and oozing pus. She cleaned and disinfected the cuts and applied clean bandages.

"There she should be fine now. I don't know how you couldn't smell it."

"I don't know," said Christian, "Ana always smells like Grandpa's apple orchard to me."

"Well, that's very sweet, son, but not helpful. From now on, I want you to inspect every inch of her every morning, _and_ Christian, don't get distracted, if you know what I mean."

"Mom means don't ravish your girlfriend before you get to her bellybutton."

"Fuck off, Leliot. Weren't you just here for lunch? Learn to heat up a can of soup," snarled Christian.

"Says the guy with the housekeeper/laundress/chef," retorted Elliot. "Little bit of hypocrisy there, don't you think?"

"Well, at least, I pay for those services while you just drive a couple of blocks down to Grey Manor."

"Enough, boys. I'd like to keep Ana here for the evening, Christian. You boys can eat dinner here and then do the dishes before you take Ana home."

"AW, Mom….."

"El, I'd like to get you to go over to the hospital soon to draw up the redesign for Joey's quarters. Is Thursday okay for you?" asked Grey.

"You got the hospital to approve?"

"It never occurred to me to worry about their approval but I'll call or drop by tomorrow. I'll give 'em the dime's worth tour and they'll approve or else," remarked Christian nonchalantly.

Grace smiled to herself. She knew that she oughtn't approve of her son's arrogance but in this case, she was looking forward to that priggish president's groveling. She and her family had paid for half that hospital and held fundraiser's every year and she was tired of seeing the money go to big-ticket, flashy equipment and the redecorating of the president's office every other year.

So, while Ana slept in the guestroom, the family ate dinner and discussed the fate of Elena Lincoln, who'd been charged with numerous counts of drug dealing, tax evasion, money laundering, and so. Elena had called Carrick to request representation but Carrick declined. Too busy, he said. "Elena was found in some sort of dungeon in her basement," said a shocked Grace, "she'd been down there for 2 days without food or water or, ahem, toilet facilities."

"Yes," said Carrick, "the police had no idea who called it in. Someone, no doubt, who was doing business with her and had found her to be a liability. After what she did to Ana, I don't care a bit what happens to her. That was the work of a vicious sadist…not the lady of society that she presented herself to be. He chuckled, "Her fate should delight the ex-husband she screwed over."

"it's a big relief that she's incarcerated and can't get to Ana and Joey….though the two men who helped her have me concerned," said Christian. "If they were just hired hands, they're probably elsewhere. I just hope that they didn't have some vested interest in Ana."

"Could they have been drug runners or thugs hired by the guy in Paraguay who supposedly wanted Ana as a sex slave? After all, Elena was bound for Paraguay," suggested Elliot.

"Thanks, El. Now I have something new to worry about," grimaced Christian.

"Well," suggested Elliot," then entrap them. Hire a woman who looks like Ana and put her out on the street, coverts everywhere, see if the look-a-like lures them out. Genius, right?"

"Well," hesitated Christian," but it is an idea. I'll run it by Taylor."

Then he got real quiet for a while. "I've gotta go check on Ana. Excuse me. I'll be back for _my_ slice of that cherry pie. If El goes for it, stab him with a fork, Dad."

"Sure thing, son," laughed Carrick at Elliot's shocked expression.

Christian quietly opened the door to find Ana in the middle of a nightmare. She was trying to climb the far wall, whispering "Joey, you have to be quiet." It took Christian several minutes to get through to her and wake her.

"Christian, I can't find Joey. Please help me find Joey," Ana begged. "Ok, Ana, I'll find him. I'll take care of everything. You go back to sleep." Then he held her and rocked her for a while.

Grace popped her head in the door and saw tears in her son's eyes. She put her arms around him as he was wrapped around Ana. "It just kills me to see her hurting, Mom."

"Mom, could you help me figure out how to move Joey to Escala….you know, the equipment and personnel we'd need?"

JOEY COMES HOME

"It's okay. You can jostle the bed a bit. He likes it," smiled Ana as she listened to Joey laugh while the moving men carried the crib into Joey's new room. The movers were laughing, too.

They'd dismantled the library downstairs next to the master bedroom. Christian offered his study but Ana wanted all their rooms near each other. So, the Red Room was being converted into the library and all the other rooms upstairs would continue to be guest rooms. They were often necessary for Elliot after a drunken night on the town and Mia after a fatiguing day of shopping.

Besides the library was the only room big enough to house all the equipment needed for Joey. Ana was beside herself with joy and Christian felt relief knowing that no one could get to him.

He got to know Joey and understood that when the child is yours and you know him, you don't notice so much anymore that he is radically difficult from other children. Christian would lean over his crib and listen as Joey 'talked' to him and when Christian would talk about his day, Joey was quiet and attentive. He seemed to know when Christian was telling a joke and Christian loved it when he came home from work yelling for his Joey Bear and he could hear the crib shake. When he leaned over the crib to say hello and Joey screamed with joy, Christian's heart grew bigger...just like the grinch. At first, he thought it was just a reaction that Joey had for everyone but he didn't get excited about Elliot or Carrick because he didn't see them every day. Christian began to feel like a dad and he liked it.

He liked to watch as Ana curled Joey into her arms and rocked him to sleep each night. Since he'd moved in, Ana hadn't had a nightmare. Seemed a fair exchange…Grey hadn't had a nightmare since Ana began sleeping in his bed. Ana understood how to use and repair the equipment as well as the people at the hospital. She took care of everything like a pro.

Christian dropped by the hospital president's office, unannounced and wildly welcomed. He laughed inwardly; sometimes it was good to be him, he thought. He told the president that he wanted to make a large donation and before the words were out of his mouth, Jellison was telling him it would so great to be able to buy a new whatchamacallit. No, said Grey, this donation was designated for the Children's Residency Center. Jellison looked disappointed but sat down to listen. By the end of their 'discussion', Jellison agreed to tear down the wall, move the storage room. tear out the outside wall and build a large deck with glass doors. He also agreed to allow Ana to dictate all details.

In addition, Grey's donation would include money to cover the salaries of at least 5 new CNAs. They were to be top of their classes only and paid considerably more than standard to avoid turnover. Grey would be in touch periodically to see if the children were receiving the finest care. These children were his new mission. He, in fact, planned to look into the conditions elsewhere. He and Ana knew that within a year or so they would lose Joey and in his memory, they would help other children like him and their families.

SO, WHO ARE THE BAD GUYS

As the weeks passed, there was no sign of the men who helped Elena kidnap Ana. There was finally a trial, surprisingly. Everyone, including Carrick, thought that Elena would take a plea bargain but a woman who resolutely believes in her own innocence would not take a plea.

Against the advice of her law team, she insisted on testifying on her own behalf. The Grey family, having the privilege of knowing Elena so well, were the only people in the courtroom with closed mouths as she insisted to the gob smacked jury that all her 'girls' belonged to her, that her beating of Ana was simply her right and necessary to discipline an errant employee. She went on to say that, yes, she had sold some drugs but what of it….everyone knew that people used drugs.And this thing called money laundering, she didn't understand. Christian made certain that the prosecuting attorney asked about the help she received to take Ana. Elena insisted that they were nice young men helping a drunken girl to get home because her mother couldn't lift her.

Christian wanted to believe that the men who helped were indeed simply passers-by who thought they were helping an old lady with her drunken daughter. But Christian didn't know and couldn't take the chance. The police had asked the men to come forward and no one had, so…..

Grey and Taylor sat down and decided to actually try Elliot's idea. Taylor knew of a petite police woman with long dark hair. With sun glasses, jeans and ballet flats, she did, indeed, resemble Ana if one were in a hurry to make a grab. So, with Sawyer driving the Mercedes SUV and Heidi sitting in the back seat, they went shopping. They didn't expect to have much luck right out of the gate. They thought it might take a couple of weeks but it turned out that those guys really wanted her and wanted her now. She stopped at a grocery store and the men followed her inside. They made no attempt to disguise themselves. Just black suits and shoulder holsters. Over her earpiece, Sawyer alerted Heidi as he and the other men in simple polo shirts and jeans planted themselves both in and outside the store. Heidi turned a corner in the frozen foods and as the bad guys turned the same corner, they were met by a tiny brunette with a Glock 22 aimed at the space between their eyes. Within seconds, several men knocked them to the ground.

After an hour of questioning by the police, the men admitted to carrying Ana down into Elena's dungeon. Thankfully, they were not from Paraguay, were not hired guns; they were Dom's in training….by Elena, of course. They were simple brainwashed dupes, a very relieved Taylor informed Christian and Ana. An army of mercenaries hired by a Paraguayan gun runner was not after Ana.

Christian felt badly for the men, actually. He talked with them for a time and they told him that they'd been Elena's subs since they were 14 and 15. Now they wanted to do the beating. He tried to tell them that Elena had told them nothing but lies but, of course, they didn't believe him. They were going to be leaders among men, Dominants.

No, they hadn't been permitted to watch as Elena beat Ana but they knew the bite of the cane.

At their hearings, Christian testified on their behalf, explained that they'd been abused and brainwashed and asked that they be given therapy for which he would be happy to pay.

Christian's family didn't understand why he would want to help the men who intended to kidnap Ana so they could practice their new dominant skills on her but Grey explained that he hoped to avoid having two more sadists out in the world.

After the hearing, he went home. Joey had learned that the sound of the elevator pinging meant that Ana or Christian or someone else he loved was coming to see him and he'd begin to shake his crib. If that someone were his mother or Christian, leaning over to say hi and pick him up and kiss him, he would squeal with excitement.

Christian had come to love the sound of Joey's crib rattling when he got off the elevator and he'd hurry into Joey's room to get his scream of joy. He loved picking up his boy and sitting down in the big padded rocker. Like Ana, he'd sing to Joey.

He commissioned a furniture maker to construct a similar rocker to fit two adults so he and Ana could sit together with their boy. Joey would reach for his mother when he was sitting on Grey's lap and then reach for Christian after a time of sitting on his mother's lap. His favorite position was sitting on his mother while she sat on Christian's lap.

Life, thought Christian, was perfection.

Life also, unfortunately, sucks.

GOODBYE, JOEY

They knew, of course. His heart grew weaker every day. One day when Christian got off the elevator, he didn't hear the crib rattling. Joey is napping, he told himself. He dragged himself into Joey's room to find his beautiful Ana holding Joey tightly to herself and rocking. He picked the two up and settled them on his lap and they sat there quietly for a long time, just rocking, tears streaming down their cheeks. Christian began to sing one of Joey's favorite songs.

"I don't know how to let him go. Christian, what should I do?" Christian just shook his head and looked down at Joey's blue eyes, lifeless now. Then he looked at Ana's sad blue eyes and knew that he had to take control. He took out his phone and called his mother.

"Mom, we lost Joey this afternoon. Could you come over and bring a death certificate with you? Thanks. I love you, too"

"When did he go, sweetheart?" asked Christian. "An hour ago. I was holding him and telling him that his daddy would be here in just an hour and he smiled. I leaned back for just a moment and looked back down to ask him if he wanted to look out the window and I saw in his eyes that he was gone."

"Why didn't you call me, Ana? You shouldn't have been alone."

"It's just been me and Joey for almost 6 years. I guess I wanted just a little more 'just me and Joey time'. I'm sorry. You loved him, too….I was being selfish." Ana leaned against Christian's chest.

"No, darling, it's alright. You're right. It was your time. Did it help?"

"Ironically, nothing helped until you came home. I told Joey, 'the elevator is here, daddy's home' and I felt better. I've been in denial for years so I've made no plans."

"Well, I'll bet Elliot can make Joey a really neat box and you and I can go to the Grey plots and pick out the one you like best and we'll go to the monument makers and choose a marker. We'll have to think about a good inscription.

When all that is done, we'll have a funeral and then all that's left is to miss him the rest of our lives."

The elevator pinged and Taylor announced Dr. Trevelyan. Grace walked in with tears in her eyes and kissed Ana and Christian. Then she kissed Joey. She announced his death and then filled out the death certificate. "We have to call the funeral home to come for him. They'll hold him until we have a nice box for him. I already called Elliot. He wants to know if you'd prefer a toy box or maybe an airplane or anything you want."

"I want Joey to finally be free."

"Would you prefer that Joey be cremated and we scatter his ashes somewhere?" suggested Christian. Ana looked at him. "But when I wanted to visit him, where would I go?"

"Well, we could bury some of the ashes and scatter the rest."

"Yes," agreed Ana. "I want to scatter his ashes on the waters of the Sound. Maybe we can rent a boat. And then I'd like to bury the rest of the ashes in a really pretty box with teddy bears on it 'cause he loved his bears. Remember how excited he got when you brought home that simple brown bear? Yes, we'll bury his bear with his ashes. And I'd like a bench for a marker so that I can sit there with him sometimes. Can we do all that, Christian?"

"Whatever you want. By the way, I own a boat. We can either scatter his ashes or anchor them to a particular spot."

"No, scatter. He's been anchored all his life." Ana sighed. "Grace, could you call the mortuary? And no black plastic bag. I'm going to wrap him up in his blanket. I couldn't bear to watch him leave in a bag on a gurney."

"Of course, dear. I'll arrange it. I'll make the call and you get Joey ready to go."

Christian and Ana sat with Joey a while longer and then Ana stood up. Christian got his big blue blanket and they swaddled Joey from head to toe and then waited for the awful moment when they had to give him away for good. Christian was barely holding it together. As usual, Ana was the strong one.

"He's finally free, Christian. Because of Joey, I have to believe in an afterlife where all children are healthy and happy and safe and they run and play."

Just then Grace walked in the door. " _I'm_ going to carry Joey down to the car and take him to the funeral home. Carrick is driving. No hearse or black bags for our Joey. Okay?"

"Yes, Grace, thank you so much for so much."

Then Grace turned and left, with Joey. She had to take him from their arms. After she left, they cried for long time and then fell asleep…Ana on Christian's lap, wrapped in his arms.

JOEY'S PLACE

One month later Seattle General held a grand opening of Joey's Place, i.e. the Residential Children's Center. The work, done by Elliot's crew, was masterful. Ana and Christian were thrilled. It was a wonderful, open, bright and airy nursery. The new staff had been hired and duly warned by Christian himself as to what was expected of them…to always treat each child, no matter how damaged, as an individual with feelings and an understanding of their surroundings.

He'd had a beautiful golden sign, hung over an archway, that read simply Joey's Place. The archway lead out into the deck. It was open with screens and closed with windows when necessary. All the doctors, most of whom were nowhere to be found when Ana was fighting for this, said that the fresh air would do wonders for the children's health.

Most of the parents showed up and the children of those who didn't had someone to hold them, i.e. Christian, Ana and the CNAs. Everyone walked around marveling, admiring and cooing at the children in their arms. The deck was a favorite, esp. since it was a beautiful, warm day. The children were lively, alert. One couple held their daughter, the girl they hadn't seen since her birth. They were surprised at her alertness, her delight in being cuddled. Their doctor had told them that she would be a vegetable and would probably die within a year. Their pain kept them away. Now they cried over what they had missed. They sat together on the swing on the deck and got to know their daughter.

Ana and Christian spoke to every parent and reminded them about the Sunday gatherings and little parties that were held. Every child got a birthday party and a new stuffed toy.

Grace came over on her break and Elliot stopped with Carrick. It was a new and enlightening experience for all of them.

One of the CNAs, Belinda, came over to Elliot who stood watching with empty arms. She was a very pretty blonde with curly long hair and soft brown eyes who had watched Elliot and his crew work. She was holding a severely brain damaged child with a brilliant smile.

"Mr. Grey," she said shyly, "I want to thank you for the work you did. All this is yours and, dollars to donuts, you didn't make a dime on it but rather paid for the materials and labor."

Elliot laughed. "Dollars to donuts, that's something my grandfather would say."

"Well, I'm 27 so I must have heard it from _my_ grandfather, god rest his soul. He was a fireball, my grandad."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that he passed. How long ago was that?"

"Last year, give or take a day. He and I were out back playing catch when he collapsed. His last words were to me….'wherever you are'."

"What did he mean by that, do you know?"

"Well, when I was in high school, I was in a fire and I was badly burned. Disfigured. The kids were mean, called me Frankenstein, you know. Granddaddy told me to always remember that no matter where I was or who I was with, esp. if they didn't want me, that _He_ loved me deeply and thought the sun rose and set with me. So, when he said those words, I knew he meant that I always had _his_ love. Those words have seen me through some difficult times."

"Anyway, I didn't come over here to chew your ear off, I came over to give Claire to you. Enjoy."

Then she handed the baby to Elliot, threw a towel over his shoulder and left.

He watched her go and wondered where the burn scars were. He settled down into cooing at Claire.

LIFE GOES ON

For some time, Christian was useless at work, all the fire gone out of him. He'd stare off into space until Ana stopped by. She'd sit on his lap, cuddle up and they'd look out the window together. She told him the latest from Joey's Place. He enjoyed the story of how she suggested strongly to President Jellison that the Center's name be changed from Seattle General to The Grace Trevelyan Center and, now knowing of her strong connection to the Greys, he'd readily agreed.

"Money talks even when you're only living next door to it," she laughed. Then she got up, went out to talk to Andrea who nodded with a smile. Then Ana returned, locking the door behind her. She returned to Christian, straddled him and began undoing his tie and then his shirt buttons. He smiled and began undoing her buttons. Before long all their clothes were on the floor and they were, too.

"I love you, Ana, did you know that?" He began sucking on her breasts and gently nipping her nipples.

"I did know. You told me while I semi-conscious. I guess you didn't know that I heard. She was running her hands down his back and over his cute as fuck tushie and back again. God, he thought, don't stop. That feels incredible.

"I said it like you did, over and over, willing you to hear me. I was yelling but I was in a cloud. Can you hear me now?" He was blissing out as she was now massaging his balls but he was able to nod.

"Look at me." He looked down into her soothing blue eyes as she said, "I truly, madly, so deeply love you." At her words, he almost came. He slid gently into her over and over, holding back because he needed to feel her. "When I'm inside you, I'm safe and I'm home." Then she squeezed her walls and he screamed "Ana" as he came like Vesuvius. After, he was shaking so hard that she wrapped her arms and legs around him as tightly as she could until he calmed. When he'd made certain that she, too, had her orgasm, they lay in front of the window, wrapped around each other.

"I want to have more children and I want to be married to you and I want a regular house and I want a dog."

Ana giggled and that made him smile. "That's an awfully wide turnaround from a couple of BDSMers to nuclear family. Perhaps we ought to take it slower."

"Slower? We've been together nine months! We've been out of the life for 6 months and we've seen each other through the death"….he began to choke…through the death of a child. Maybe we should go see Joey, okay?"

Ana agreed, they got dressed and said goodbye for the day. Carrick had been pushing for Ana to return so she figured this would be her last weekday off for a while. Carrick pointed out that her replacement had screwed up for the 10th time and she told him to stop growling at the poor girl. "I growled, yelled and threatened you and you just gave me dirty looks."

"They weren't dirty looks, Carrick. They were 'behave' looks."

At the cemetery, Ana and Christian walked hand in hand to Joey's grave. They'd put a small box with part of his ashes and his teddy bear into the beautiful box that Elliot made. It was in the ground now. Above it, to protect it from the rain was a granite bench with an inscription courtesy of Maurice Sendak….

 _Let the wild rumpus start_

"I like the inscription," said Christian. "It fits, you know? Joey is the leader of the pack and having a blast. I know our boy was a leader here. Joey lead you to me, to the rehab of the center, to change the thinking of a lot of people." Ana just nodded. She giggled a bit, remembering the minister's disapproval of the inscription. He'd tried to talk them into something religious but they explained that it was now Joey's turn to run free. Sitting close, she leaned into Christian until he reached over and placed her on his lap with her head on his chest and his cheek resting on her head. Then she sobbed, hard, while his tears fell onto her hair.

After some time had passed, Ana looked up and took Christian's handkerchief and blew her nose and dried her face. She offered the hanky to Christian who laughed and said that he'd already used her hair as it only seemed fair.

"So, Joey, we need your blessing. I want to marry your mother and have more children. What are your thoughts?" Christian asked in a trembling voice. They sat there and waited. Then 2 small children came running across the private plot, laughing and tripping while an older woman came walking as fast as she could manage behind, laughing and chiding them.

The children stopped in their tracks as they saw Ana and Christian sitting in front of them.

"Whadda ya doing?" they asked.

"Visiting our son, Joey," they replied, pointing below them.

"Oh, he's dead, uh? Sorry. Hi, Joey, my name's Joseph. I was named after my grandfather.

This is my sister and that is my grandmother," he informed them as the old woman struggled up the small hill. "Are you married?" "What makes you think so?" asked Ana. "Cause you look like it, all lovey dovey. I remember my parents were like you." and then he looked sad.

"I am so sorry that the children disturbed you. They may be disrespectful but I like to take them to visit their parents and their grandfather. And isn't the cemetery a lovely place to walk? I'm so sorry for your loss. Has it been long?"

"No, a couple of months." Ana replied.

"Steele…hum…Steele…I knew a family by that name back in my old home town of Montesano. Terrible people. Drinkers, druggies, beat their child. But they wouldn't be any relation of yours. I can tell that you're good people.

Well, come along, kids. Your uncle's waiting. Bye now." and with a wave she was gone.

"Are your parents still alive? 'Cause I could have them beaten up, if you like," kidded Christian.

"Don't bother. I've already made a deal with the truck driver who drove me out of town to go off road one night and drive over the cabin," Ana laughed.

"Well, I think that we got our sign, don't you?"

At that Christian gently set Ana down on the bench and then knelt before her, taking her hand.

"I thought that I was meant to live alone all of my days…but first you and then Joey showed me that I was meant for dearer things, deeper happiness than I'd ever dreamed off. I don't remember the last time I was angry…"

"Peephole," smiled Ana.

"Oh, yeah. Geez. Anyway, with you, I'm a happy guy. I wake up thrilled that the day is beginning…another day with Ana. I want all my days to be with you. I am so in love with you, my breathtakingly beautiful girl. Please say that you'll marry me."

"On one condition"

"I knew it. What's the condition?"

"We have Carrick write a prenup."

Christian opened his mouth to protest but he wanted to hear 'yes' so badly, he agreed.

Then he took a small velvet box from his pocket and slipped a diamond on her small velvet finger.

THE NEWS

"Well, that didn't take long," grumbled Carrick. "Your engagement is in every publication and you'd think that they could write it with some respect."

"We did have the PR department send out a simple statement with a picture but the media…hmm…added their own take, Dad."

"How did Ana take being called a gold-digger?" Christian started roaring with laughter. "You know my girl…unflappable. Her first reaction was that she didn't know the etymology of the term 'gold-digger' so she looked it up in google. She wants to wear a gold dress, covered with $100 bills to the Coping Together Gala.

"Listen to this in the Seattle Nooz _: Seattle's own bachelor multi-billionaire pretty boy, Christian Grey, has been put up in dry dock. That's right, ladies, your chance to land this one in a million billionaire is gone. His engagement was officially announced this morning by the Grey House PR department. Grey's only comment is that he hopes to be married as soon as possible. What's the rush, Grey? Bun in the oven?"_

"Gosh, the use of the written word is stellar, isn't it?" laughed Grey.

"Here's another one from the Seattle Guardian: Is it possible? Is Christian Grey, boy Billionaire, really heterosexual? Years of speculation and now we see Grey toting about a stunning brunette wearing a diamond to die for. Is she real or a darn good beard? No date as yet but the Grey House PR department has issued an official declaration of engagement to be married. This columnist will have to see it to believe it."

"You're rich?! What the hell? And all this time I've only been sleeping with you for your good looks."

Ana walked in the room wearing yoga pants and Christian's old Harvard sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, in bare feet with her tiny toenails painted pink. Grey just looked at her and sighed.

"You're a lovely beard, my dear."

"Thanks, my love," giggled Ana, "my rich boyfriend pays for me to always wear the latest and finest. This sweatshirt, for instance, has only one hole in it." She walked into his arms and they kissed as chastely as possible in front of his parents which his parents didn't feel was chaste at all.

"Okay, future dad-in-law, how's that prenup coming along?"

"I'm afraid, my dear, that your negotiating skills are somewhat limited. Before you insisted on this, you should have made clear your terms. As it is, your affianced has made his terms as follows:

She gets everything. Period."

"Can he do that?" Ana looked alarmed.

"Yes, he can." The man with his arms wrapped around her cackled in glee.

"Don't fret, baby," Christian laughed. "Sometime in the next 50 years, I'm sure that you'll win at least once."

"I'll fix you. I'll spend it all. I'll buy brand new Harvard sweatshirts without holes."

"Good. Here is your plastic to play with." And with that, he handed her a black Amex card.

Her blue eyes combusted giving him an immediate combustion of his own. He tried to discretely adjust his sweatpants.

"Gretchen," asked Ana sweetly, "please hand me the scissors." Gretchen, who hated Ana, happily handed over the scissors, hoping Christian would be angry enough to call off the engagement. Poor thing was so deluded.

Ana snipped the Amex into a couple dozen tiny pieces and dumped them over Christian's head.

Gretchen waited for Grey to begin yelling and demanding that Ana get out. She was flummoxed when he grinned like a loon, pulled Ana even closer and dipped her, kissing her neck. Huh?

Gretchen was confused but when you've been making google eyes at a guy who ignores you for 10 years, confusion is your middle name.

"Well, you'll just have to use mine until the one with your married name arrives," snorted Grey in triumph.

'Twas then that Ana smiled wickedly, "Who said anything about a 'married' name, Grey?"

Then she sashayed away with her perfect little ass wiggling at him as he stared gob-smacked.

Carrick roared with laughter and slapped the top of the island. "Boy, she sure has you figured out, son."

Ana walked the three flights to Christian's old bedroom and sat down with her laptop, waiting for the bomb to go off.

"WHAT THE HELL? YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY NAME!?

"Well, it is rather archaic, don't you think?" She said calmly, batting her eyes at him.

That ragger in his pants had reappeared and wasn't helping.

"It's traditional. It's, it's the way things are done!"

"Well, I'm, WE, are hardly traditional, are we? I thought that keeping the name 'Steele' was a given."

"I thought taking the name 'Grey' was a given."

"You did?" Ana looked perplexed. "I'm surprised. Aren't prenups traditional now, esp. for the wealthy yet your prenup is certainly untraditional."

"A prenup is unnecessary in our case since we are never divorcing."

"Oh, Christian, 50% of marriages end in divorce. What makes ours so special?"

"You're having a go at me, aren't you? That's what this is all about, isn't it"?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Christian."

Christian walked slowly toward the bed, raising his arms and removing his t-shirt. He leaned down and removed his socks. He knew that he had the same effect on her as she did on him. She particularly loved his happy trail. He loosened the tie on his sweat pants allowing them to shift lower on his hips. She was staring and her face was turning pink.

"This," he stood with his hands on his hips, "is all yours…for a price."

"Huh?" she said, gulping.

"Accept my name and my black Amex or I walk out of here." The thing was he knew that Ana really held all the cards. He'd never be able to walk out of there now no matter what she did or didn't agree to. He was bluffing. She stared. He stared. He walked over and took her laptop, closed it and set it on the nightstand. She stared up at his hips. He knew it. He had her.

"Remove your shirt, Ana." She obeyed. "What have I told you about wearing a bra around the house, Ana?" "Don't." she replied. "Take it off. Now." She did. Oh, those perky little globes. Hang on, he told himself, do not let go now. He could feel his balls turning black.

"Lie on the bed." He removed her Yoga pants and then her panties. She lay naked before him. "Are you wet, Ana?"

"Uh huh?" She looked dazed. He congratulated himself. He was proud when he aroused his woman even tho' it had never been a question of being able to do so. He'd had subs who walked off the elevator already wet for him. But the first time he ever felt that he was actually wanted was by Ana. She wanted him because she loved him.

He wanted her to come first so he loved her all over for quite a while until she was begging for release. "Not yet, baby, let's see if we can do this together."

He dropped his pants and brought her legs over his shoulders, slamming into her, rubbing his fingers over her clitoris at the same time. Just when he knew he could hold back no longer, Ana exploded, screaming his name as he screamed hers.

He slid her legs off his shoulders and she wrapped them around his back as he buried his face in her neck, breathing hard like a race-winning stallion. Ana kept saying "oh, my god" with her hands weaving through his sweat soaked hair. He brought his knees up to her sides, to wrap her entirely in him.

They held on to each other as if to let go would be crazy. He couldn't think except for the words, 'I love you'. He held on tighter. "Ana, Ana, my beautiful Ana"

"You are everything in the world to me, Christian. Of course, I want your name…and your Amex card." She giggled and he lifted his head to smile at her. "No prenup. I'd give you everything and you'd try to walk away with nothing."

"All I want or ever wanted was you and Joey. I love you so, Christian."

"You are my world, Ana. I am madly in love with you. Now go forth and overspend."

GET A LITTLE, GIVE A LITTLE

For the next couple of weeks, Christian and Ana argued about everything. He expected her to simply fit into his life but it was hard for Ana to accept all the changes and he had to admit that it was mostly Ana having to adjust.

She had to adjust to being rich…which few would consider an adjustment but it was for a girl who'd essentially been on her own her whole life. Ana came to treasure Caroline Acton, who clothed her, but the price tags terrified her.

Ana went shopping with Gail for groceries and came home with sticker shock. For a girl who'd lived on noodles and peanut butter sandwiches, spending $800 a trip for organic produce and a 'good' wine was insane. Gripes, even the noodles were 'organic' which Ana thought was a scam anyway.

She bought several loaves of wheat bread and made p & j sandwiches which she then distributed to the homeless in the area. For that she had to live with twice as many CPOs. When the weather turned cold, she set up her own soup kitchen in the park. Worse, when Christian complained, she made him go along and help her.

"She sure is pretty, ain't she?" remarked one grizzled old man. When Christian turned purple with jealousy, the old guy laughed and asked how he got through his day if he was worried about an old coot like him.

When Ana found out that Grey House did not have day care or afterschool care or paternity leave, she went ballistic. Grey blamed Ros Bailey who then threatened his life in private. Soon, all benefits were realized.

Being rich wasn't the only thing to which Ana found it hard to adjust. Being watched and followed and driven everywhere was a major thorn in her side. Christian called it protection but Ana simply felt that she called attention to herself. If she'd been able to go about on her own, no one, she insisted, would notice her but when you're surrounded by a small army…

Then one day came the word that Christian had been dreading. Not only were Leila and Susannah back in town but Stephan Morton had climbed into his pickup truck and headed south…for Seattle. There had been a lot of news about Christian and Ana. Christian's good looks, wealth and now apparent heterosexuality were of more than enough interest but after he and Ana had posed briefly for paparazzi at the Coping Together Gala, her beauty had captivated the press. When she manned her soup kitchen, she wore sweatpants and top with a ski mask so the press wouldn't have much of interest to publish, she hoped. So, she hired several women of her size, all wearing the same outfits and leaving the press completely confused but the homeless werefed warm meals.

But now Grey wondered what was happening with Leila and Susie. Where had they been and what were their plans? He sent two of his men to question them. He wanted to do it himself but that would have just given them what they really wanted….him.

Leila claimed to have left town because Elena was after her to sub. Now she was back and hoping to find a job in another art store. Okay, that made sense.

Susie gave the same reason for leaving town and claimed also to be looking for a job in a salon. She said that Elena had promised to put her through cosmetology college but after several months of washing hair, Susie had stopped believing her.

The two girls had sublet their apartment for six months and gone home to their parents but they missed each and Seattle and then came the good news that Elena had gone to jail. They were free! They assured Welch's men that they had no evil plans to do with Ana.

Christian later sent word via his lawyers to remind the girls of the severity of their NDAs and the consequences of even discussing Grey with each other. Then the lawyer informed Leila of several job openings in good art galleries where she was authorized to use Christian Grey's name as a reference. The lawyer also informed Susie that she was registered to begin classes at a cosmetology college next month. Neither was to try to contact Grey with expressions of gratitude or for any other reason.

The mystery of who hired an intruder to go after Ana was not to be solved. It was probably Elena who regretted handing over her prize possession to a man who would not pay "a dealer's fee" like all the others. After all, he was already paying thousands regularly to keep Esclava open.

Morton was another issue. Grey puzzled over whether to mention his travel plans to Ana. Finally, knowing how she'd feel about being lied to, he told her. She told him that Morton carried an assault rifle for which he was licensed, a Glock 22 and a small Saturday Night Special. He'd told her once that he could get her from any distance.

One night when he and her parents had passed out, she pulled a small duffle bag from under the bed, packed a few things and headed down the dirt road, walking until she came to the main highway. She caught a ride with a trucker who figured her for about 12 and didn't believe her when she said that she was 17. He was nice, tho'. He said that he'd get her to Seattle and drop her off at the DCF office. His wife worked there and she'd know what to do.

True to his word, when they pulled into Seattle about 8 am., he walked her right up to his wife's desk, gave his missus a kiss hello and turned Ana over to her. After hearing Ana's story, his wife found her a foster home. It wasn't awful. As long as she cleaned and watched the kids, they took care of her and helped her through her pregnancy. Her labor was quite long and when she came to at one point, the doctor told her that her baby was in bad shape and not expected to survive. She asked to see him, told the doctor that she had no one and lived in a foster home. He and the trucker's wife helped her to sign up for Medicaid and get Joey into the residential center.

Despite everything, she had maintained excellent grades so the social welfare worker helped her apply for a scholarship for paralegal training. She lived in the foster home, got her GED to finish high school early and began attending paralegal classes. Even after she'd aged out of the system, the foster parents allowed her to remain long enough to finish school. Besides, they appreciated how clean the house was and well behaved the children. As soon as she finished paralegal training at the top of her class, she found a red wig, bought green contacts and large glasses, a couple of black skirts and white blouses and applied for a job at Carrick's law firm.

She had left the hospital one night feeling particularly blue because she'd been told that Medicaid wouldn't pay for all of Joey's costs and the hospital was going to have to move him into a state facility in another city. She'd left scared to death and had gone to Mike's Coffee Shop. She was sitting there sipping tea when it occurred to her that perhaps Mike was hiring. He was but during the day hours. She went back to her table and was approached by a girl who said that her name was Susannah. She explained that she knew of a way for Ana to make a lot of money but it was very difficult. She asked if Ana had heard of BDSM and then explained it all to her. She said that Elena Lincoln would set her up with a Dom but would require a 'connection' payment. She said that Doms could be quite generous and that Ana could make a lot of money quickly.

Ana visited Esclava the next day. Elena seemed thrilled to see her. Ana, of course, didn't know that Elena had been hunting for the perfect blue-eyed brunette for a particular Dom. As she explained the Dom's expectations, the lowered eyes, the Sirs, and so forth, Ana thought it all a little silly until Elena mentioned that the Dom she had in mind might be amenable to unusual terms. Ana said that she wanted no gifts; she wanted a weekly compensation of $40,000 which happened to be as much as she needed for Joey's care. She would not allow fisting or ball gagging but otherwise had no limits. Elena offered to train her but Ana didn't like the strange look in Mrs. Lincoln's eyes. I'll see the man, Ana said, and we'll see if he wants me. If not, nothing lost.

Mrs. Lincoln made a phone call and returned with an address and a code. She said that Mr. Grey liked stilettos. So, Ana went home, dug out a nice dress she never wore and a pair of 6 inch heels that she once bought without realizing that sane women don't walk around on their tippy toes all day and popped a pair of sneakers into her bag. She cabbed it to Escala and began her career as a submissive. It wasn't so bad. She'd been beaten, far more harshly, and knew how to trance out of reality. When you've been beaten and called slut and dirt and worthless and every other possible insult since your first memory, you had two choices. Accept it and go crazy or train your mind to go elsewhere.

Joey's obit was published in a Seattle paper, thanks to a mortuary that didn't pay attention to Ana's request. She imagined that they thought having Grey family business would bring in good publicity. That probably caught Morton's eye. So now he knew where Ana was and no doubt thought that he could either profit from her wealthy connections or carry out his original promise to kill her.

Either way, he was coming for her and soon.

MORTON AND MIA

A slight bit of light coming through the blackout curtains made its way into Grey's consciousness. He closed the curtains now on the weekends so that he and Ana could sleep in. Prior to having Ana in his bed, he'd never closed the curtains. He was always awake before dawn anyway, either because he'd had a nightmare or simply because he couldn't sleep. Now he didn't have nightmares anymore and as long as Ana was in his arms, he could sleep 10 hours easily.

He checked the clock. Nine am. He had major morning wood, of course. Ana had threatened his life more than once when he'd tried to wake her to relieve him of his erection. So, he enjoyed just lying there with her, holding her and feeling her warmth. He never grew bored with watching her sleep. It relaxed him. He wondered if he'd ever get over the thrill of having her, of having what they had together. He drew her closer and kissed her head and snuggled back intothe pillows. "love you" Ana murmured in her sleep. He grinned, "love you, too."

Suddenly there was a tumult and loud voices coming from the living area. He recognized the desperate effort of his security trying to shush Mia and Mia not giving a damn who she disturbed.

"What do you mean, sleeping? It's after 9. Since when does Christian sleep past 5. Company? He never sleeps with anyone. Get out of my way. What is going on around here?!"

Gripes, hadn't his parents told her anything? Oh, probably not. If they had, she'd have only come home sooner. They all loved Mia….far away.

As Grey clasped Ana closer to him, she awoke and watched in astonishment as a tall green-eyed girl with black hair burst through their bedroom door and stared at them in amazement. Though they were naked as always, they did have covers hiding most of them.

"Hello, Mia. How was your flight? Can you go away now?"

No, she couldn't, apparently. She walked around the bed and stared at the woman who could barely open her eyes. The woman asked Christian the time and then burrowed back into him which pleased him no end. He pulled the covers further up her body and put his arm around her.

"What is that, Christian? Since when do your sluts sleep in your bed?"

"That is quite rude, Mia, even if she had been a slut. In fact, she is my fiancé and your future sister-in-law, Ana." A hand suddenly appeared from under the covers, showing off a ring.

"When the hell did this happen? No one said a thing to me."

"I imagine Mom and Dad wanted to you to finish school before you impulsively jumped on a plane to confront my fiancé."

"Well, I've finished and I'm here and I'll be damned if I'll let my brother get conned into marrying one of his subs."

"Mia, have you talked yet to Mom and Dad?"

"No, I came right here when you didn't meet the plane and sent your goons instead. I figured something was wrong in whoville. And boy, was I right."

"Nothing is wrong, Mia. Everything is better than it has ever been."

"Oh, yeah, I'll bet she's pregnant, isn't she?"

As a matter of fact, Mia, our son died a couple of months ago. Now, I'd like you to leave, go to the folks. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Mia opened her mouth….again, but Christian motioned to Taylor to remove her. He had to carry her kicking and screaming about no slut was going to trap her brother into anything. Grey heard the elevator doors shut and then got up to lock the door. He went back to Ana who mumbled something about harridans and went back to sleep again.

Christian lay wide awake. "You know, this ragger I've got going is very painful." He waited.

"Sigh," Ana said in barely a whisper. "You wake every morning with a ragger. What did you do about them before me….on a weekday, that is."

"Before I found true love, they weren't raggers, just minor inconveniences that I rubbed out in the shower. However, now I've found you, well, they're raggers and I suffer."

"Okay, do that then." Ana answered.

He supposed that he could knock one out in the shower except that he wanted to shower with Ana and even if he didn't, once he'd finished and walked back into the bedroom to view the hump of covers under which he knew was Ana, he'd only get another ragger.

"But where does it all end?" he asked as if she'd been thinking right along with him.

And, of course, she had. "That," she said, "is the age-old question of women as well. Monthly cramps and pushing tampons up our hoo-ahs, pregnancy and losing our breakfast and peeing dribbles every 10 minutes and swollen feet and labor and childcare and back to the cramps and then the menopause and then a dried-up vagina and widowhood and death. So, what else you got?"

By now, she was awake and on a roll. "Would that I could just go into my million-dollar shower and rub one out?" She stared at him while he pouted. "If Elena could see that face, she would be livid," the thought of which gave her the giggles. "Okay, pee and brush and return for your fix," she said as she kissed his cheek. He jumped out of bed and raced for the bathroom. He left the door open to irritate her because she said his morning bladder relief sounded like Niagara Falls. As the waters of Niagara thundered, Christian yelled out to Ana, "what about your bladder and your brushing?"

"I was up an hour ago taking care of business," Ana yelled back. "I know my man." Christian smiled.

An hour later, having relieved Christian of his manly suffering, as well as her own, multiple times, the two got dressed to face the day. He took his time; he loved to watch her dress as he imagined removing those same clothes at first opportunity. She loved to watch him walk about naked as he decided on his wardrobe for the day and oh, how she loved to admire his perfect ass. Sometimes, watching each other dress lead to undressing and then having to start all over again.

As they sat at the breakfast bar, he with his egg white with spinach omelet, she with her bowl of cereal, they had the same argument as every morning. He needed more carbs. She needed more protein and everything else. Gail called it The Morning Show and looked forward to it immensely. It used to be just a grumpy Mr. Grey, the paper and silence. Now it was disagreements, laughter and friendly discussions.

This morning's friendly discussion concerned the disruption from earlier. Gail loved Ms. Mia but she was a handful. Mr. Grey was former Dom but even when he was deep in the life, he was helpless with Mia.

"So, earlier, who or what was that?

Grey sighed. "That was Mia, the sister studying or at least attending the culinary institute in Paris. She is under the impression that I am hers. She is not going to appreciate sharing even when she finds out that you are not a slut. Gird your loins." With that Ana was off her stool and heading into Christian's study.

"What is she doing?" asked Gail.

"Looking up 'gird your loins'. Hey, Gail, I'd like to take Ana out on the boat this afternoon."

"Say no more. I'll make up a nice basket for your lunch and your dinner if you decided to stay out late. If you need breakfast, go to that diner."

"Thanks, ma'am. Will do."

At this point, Ana popped back in. "Not exactly what I thought. No girding and less to do with loins than you'd think." Christian looked curious and got up to go to his office. Then he hollered for Ana to come in. "I'm not a pig, Mr. Grey." "Of course not, dear, would you mind stepping in?"

He patted his lap and then, looking serious, said, "We're going out on the boat this afternoon."

"Whee!" she exclaimed in his ear. He winced and continued. "Our tracker on his truck showed Morton pulling into the outskirts of Seattle last evening. Taylor is taking Gail to her sister's and security will be waiting for him if he comes to Escala. With any luck, we can get him on armed B&E."

"He may be an ugly mug with the overhanging brow of a Neanderthal but he is wily, cunning. He won't try to break into Escala, knowing that there is security in a building like this. No, he'll try to find a way to get to me when I'm alone. He'll want to humiliate me, insult me and if possible, rape me again. He will most likely attempt a kidnapping so that he can take his time with me."

Christian was quiet. "I hate that you know this monster so well that you know exactly the moves he'll make. Morton, your parents, Elena….you've known too many monsters, Ana."

For a while, they simply sat together, Ana on Christian's lap while he rocked. Then he asked her what she was thinking.

"I'm not thinking. I'm plotting. I once had a good plot for tricking Morton into fleeing into Mexico where he'd be picked up by the Federales with drugs in his pockets but then I figured that if he could get to me while in an American prison, he could find a way while in a Mexican prison. Then I had a plot where he gets buried alive. Eventually, I figured I need a plot where he just dies.

"Well, this is an interesting new side to my fiancé…murderess," muttered Christian.

"What? I'm only being practical, Sweetie. As long as the man remains alive, he will spend all his time and energy trying to kill me and mine. Some men are obsessed with golf. Some men are obsessed with the demise of someone. I don't know with what he occupied himself before I was born but for my entire life, it's been me. He probably just finished with whomever he hated before me."

"Oh, god. I can't think about this anymore. Let's go sailing," groaned Christian.

SUNDAY DINNER WITH MIA

Ana had changed her outfit 12 times. Each time her question to Christian was "Does this outfit make me look like a slut?

"Honey, those are all outfits that Caroline Acton chose. She doesn't send over outfits for sluts."

"Did you see that slinky silver outfit held up with a single silver strap around the neck. Where the hell was I supposed to wear that?"

"Clubbing."

"When have we ever gone clubbing? You can't stand crowds at the park."

"Well, maybe you'd go with someone else…" Ana gave Christian an incredulous look.

"Ok, maybe not. Why not give it to Mia? She loves to go clubbing in hankies," laughed Christian.

Finally, Ana decided on a demure pink sundress but then she had to get it past Christian who immediately wanted to take it off her. She was slapping his hands off her all the way to Grey Manor.

Ana was very nervous about meeting Mia who had made her feelings about Christian's new fiancé clear. She was out for blood. Both Grace and Carrick had expressed their very positive feelings about Ana and how good she was for Christian. Elliot tried to point out that her bigbrother was truly happy for the first time in his life and that, for a time even, he had a son whom he loved very much, whose death was hard on the whole family. Still, Mia would have none of it. Her adored and adoring elder brother had been poached by a slut who had used her kid to get to Christian.

Ana and Christian walked in the door, looking like a couple of Catholic School children. Christian in a sweater over a shirt with tie and Ana in a little pink dress with a white cardigan. Mia saw her brother wearing a barrel with suspenders and Ana in a skirt short enough to expose her thong panties and a sheer blouse with no bra.

While Grace, Carrick and Elliot greeted the couple with hugs and cheek kisses, Mia stood, all 5'10'' of her in 5 inch heels, a black bandage-style dress with a wide gold belt and gold earrings dangling down and brushing her shoulders. Ana, standing 5' 4'' in her ballet slippers, looked like Mia's next meal.

Grace, with a protective arm around her shoulder, lead Ana over to Mia.

"And this, Ana, is my daughter, Mia." Ana strained her neck trying to look up at Mia and smiled. "We've sort of met, yesterday. Hello, Mia, I'm the slut who's trapped your brother into this ring. Would you like to be in the wedding? I need a bridesmaid, even a maid of honor, I guess. I don't have anyone and you'd be a knockout coming down the aisle. I'll sweeten the deal. I know a good looking, single, non-gay doctor who could be a groomsman. Whadda say? Oh, and I have to stand on a chair to look him in the neck. Interested?"

Mia glared at her. Ana pushed on. "He's 6.5 so it's hard for him to meet women he can easily kiss goodnight without kneeling. With your black hair and green eyes, he'd be dead on arrival. He was Joey's pediatrician, specializing in heart/respiratory disease, which Joey kind of specialized in as well, along with cerebral palsy and brain damage. He was a multi-faceted kind of kid.

Oh, I should check my hair. Had the window down and it got blown all over. Excuse me."

As she headed for the downstairs powder room, Christian followed her.

"Where's he going?" snarled Mia.

"Mia, don't be dense for a few minutes, okay. Ana isn't going to check her hair," said Elliot, shaking his head. He loved his little sister, god knows, but she was spoiled rotten and usually unaware of other's emotions.

"What's for dinner, Mom?

"Well, Ana brought a cherry pie. We also have chicken, rice pilaf, broccoli, and ice cream to go with the pie. And Elliot, no hogging the pie. You get a second slice after everyone else has had theirs."

"Ana always gives me her slice."

"I don't know," said Grace, "if she does that out of the goodness of her heart or because you stare at her the whole time until she cracks."

"Hey, Mom," smirked Elliot, "whatever works."

"So, the wonderful Ana bakes cherry pies, eh?" sneered Mia.

"Yeah and with real cherries!" enthused Elliot. "You know, Mia, since you have a pastry degree from that fancy institute in Paris, you could have contributed to this meal, too? You're only gonna hate her more when I tell you that Ana is a hell of a cook. The sad thing is that she never got to cook a meal for her own kid."

"You mean, 'cause she kept him locked up in that hospital all the time so she had more time to whore herself out to rich men?" A second later, she felt a slap across her cheek and then looked at her mother's angry face.

"That's just enough, young lady. Joey had to be fed nutrition through a tube in his stomach his whole life. Ana would have loved to have been able to make him a birthday cake, I'm sure."

Mia stood stock still and shocked. Her mother had never hit her in her life. One more reason to hate Ana. As she stood there, Ana and Christian came out of the powder room, both with red rimmed eyes. "The wind mess up both your hair-dos?" asked Mia. "Yep," said Christian. "Smells really good, Mom. Come on, honey, let's sit down." Behind them, Mia mouthed "honey", with a look of disgust on her face.

She watched as Christian never took his hand or his arm off of Ana. He continually kissed her cheek or her temple. Jealousy was eating Mia alive. _Her_ name was the first word he ever spoke.

All her life, he'd adored her no matter how bratty she was. He defended her at school. The bullies knew that Christian would pound them to mush if they messed with his sister and she took advantage. She was a bully herself but she'd lied to Christian. He got kicked out of two schools for beating up other boys or threatening girls he was lead to believe had hurt his sister. It was great to be rich, to be the daughter of a prominent doctor and lawyer and to be the apple of Christian's eye. And then when he got really rich, she could have anything she wanted. Her parents warned him against overindulging her but didn't stop him from giving her new cars and new wardrobes. She had her own black Amex card.

To her knowledge, Christian had never had a girlfriend and that was fine with her. She didn't want the competition. She'd get up on a Saturday morning, go out to breakfast, shop, lunch, shop, dinner at her brother's club and then, exhausted, have her CPO take her back to Christian's to spend the night. She never saw him and never questioned where he'd gone to. Even after the revelations of his BDSM lifestyle, she didn't care what he was doing in his soundproofed Red Room as long as it made him happy and she never had to compete with one of the whores….except now she did. She was sure that after a lifetime it was she who had the upper hand. This Ana person wouldn't be around long if she had her way and she always got her way with Christian.

Ana smiled and raved about the meal, asked for the recipe, really played up to Grace who bought every bit of it. She was acting as if she preferred the slut to her own daughter. This was very weird. And her brother Elliot and father Carrick were just as bad. They laughed at every funny as-pig-guts remark Ana made. Mia wasn't paying close attention but something about a red wig and green contacts and Ana being a genius paralegal. And sure enough, as soon as everyone had their slice of pie, Ana slid her share unto Elliot's plate.

"You can have mine, too, Elliot," Mia coolly remarked. "After you've had Parisian Pastries, American baked goods just taste too pedestrian."

"Well, in that case, I'm happy to be a pedestrian," smirked Elliot.

Ana immediately whipped out her iPhone and looked up her google dictionary. "Pedestrian," she said, "lacking in vitality, imagination, distinction, etc.; commonplace; prosaic or dull"

"Hmmm, why do you suppose that is, Mia? How do Parisians add vitality, etc. to their pastries? I would like to know. I get a lot of recipes from Julia Child's book, like this one for cherry pie. 'Course, it's getting to be an older book now. Perhaps I should look for something newer. Any recommendations? Perhaps I could show you the recipe I used for this pie and you could correct it."

Ana looked at Mia with such sincerity that Mia had to marvel at her art of duplicity. Well, she could manipulate everyone else but not Mia. Mia threw her napkin on the plate and pushed back her chair.

"I'm quite tired. The flight was long and my homecoming was difficult. I don't know when your wedding will be but I'm sure that I'll be too busy to attend. Excusez-moi s'il vous plaît ?

At that, she turned on her heel and marched up the stairs to her room.

Ana sat still with her head down while Christian kept his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"Try to ignore her, Ana, she'll come around." Ana just nodded with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I don't know what's got into her, Ana." sighed Grace, "Her rudeness is inexcusable."

"As for me," grumbled Carrick, "I've a good mind to take her over my knee."

"She's spoiled to her core," growled Elliot, "For starters take away that black Amex card and make her earn a living, Christian. She lives rent-free and contribution-free in a mansion. She does absolutely nothing to earn her keep and she's as old as Ana who's been supporting herself and a child since she was 17. She's a disgrace."

"He's right. I, more than anyone, have contributed to her bad attitude. As soon as this Morton thing is wrapped up, I'll see to Mia. Ana, are you alright? You're awfully quiet."

"I'm fine, Christian. I'm just tired. It's been a lovely evening but I do have to get back to my job in the morning or my boss will lose his patience with me," she smiled with affection at Carrick. "And tomorrow is my debut as the real me along with four CPOs. My poor co-workers won't know what hit them."

On the way home Ana sat on Christian's lap, snuggled into his chest and was asleep before they pulled into the garage. He carried her into their bedroom, undressed her and tucked her into bed. Then he sat and stroked her hair. He kicked off his own shoes and threw his clothes on the floor. He was anxious to get her into his arms.

He was worried about Morton but at the moment he really wanted to smack his little sister.

That disrespect for Ana was not going to continue. Ana was rarely upset by things but the rejection and unkindness shown her by someone whom she wanted to be her family could very well be her Achilles heel.

Christian had a hard time getting to sleep, thinking about Morton and Mia. Morton was here now, waiting for his shot at Ana while Mia had already taken hers and probably planned on more. First thing in the morning, he was going to cancel her black Amex. Smiling as he imagined Mia's reaction, he finally drifted off.

Suddenly he was awake, didn't know why. He glanced at the clock. 3 am? He rolled over to reach for Ana but her side of the bed was empty and cold. The bathroom was dark. He called out to her and then he walked out to the kitchen. Sometimes Ana liked to snack in the middle of the night but there was no sign of her. On the way back to the bedroom, he saw a light under the door to Joey' s room. Ana was sitting in the Joey rocker, holding a teddy bear, rocking and mumbling to herself. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she seemed to be talking to Joey. Christian moved to her side, picked her up and sat with her, softly singing Day by Day.

"Mia will come around, honey. I'll bet Joey is whispering in her ear right now, telling her what a wonderful woman you are."

Ana broke into sobs. Oh, his poor love. She just couldn't catch a break, it seemed.

DAY BREAK(S)

As always, on the night before a workday, Christian left the bedroom curtains open so that he would be awakened by the first light of day. This system had worked for him for years, esp. since he would usually go for a run at 6 am and leave for work at 7:30. However, _his_ system directly contravened Ana's system which was to stay asleep.

He looked over at his fiancé who had burrowed deeper under the covers. He threw the duvet over his head and dug around until he found Ana.

"Good morning, my love, would you like to get up now?" Christian inquired.

She replied but it wasn't clear. Could have been either "fuck you or luck to you"…he couldn't determine. "Would you like me to close the curtains?" Again, the answer was a grumble of sorts. Christian reached a hand out of his cover cave and used the remote to close the curtains.

"You know, since we're both awake and have an hour at least before we have to get up….." he hinted. He crawled closer and attempted to kiss Ana. She responded with "teeth, pee".

They both jumped up and dashed into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth while he used thetoilet stall and then he brushed while she peed. Then they raced back to the bed and fucked their brains out. After, lying gasping for breath, Christian noted the time and remarked that they had enough time for another go-round.

Ana bounced to her knees and then her feet and grinned down at Christian.

"Oh, so that's the way it is, eh?" Christian said, rising to the challenge. He made a grab for Ana but she nimbly bounced out of range. "This bed is too big," growled Christian. "No, you're just too stiff, old man," gleefully sneered Ana. "I will take you down, missy," countered Christian.

They spent several minutes bouncing and dodging each other and laughing too hard to notice that when Christian tackled Ana, they wound up on the edge of the bed.

He lay on top of her, pinning her down by her shoulders, while she managed to maneuver her forearms to get her hands into position to tickle his sides. He held on as long as he could until he smashed his mouth into hers, releasing her shoulders and holding her face as he gentled the kiss and they just lay there for several minutes holding tight to each other and exploring each other's lips. Until they fell off the bed with a loud thud. Christian groaned as Ana lay on top of him, remarking how wasn't it lucky that she fell on him. "You're getting fat," he muttered. "I think you broke a rib." Ana laughed, "Maybe you're getting fat. It was rather a soft landing for me."

"Well," noted Christian, "as long as you're up there…." he lifted her up and brought her down on his very hard dick. "Ah, home." He looked up at her and caressed her cheek. "You are without doubt the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Ana leaned down and softly brushed his lips with hers. "You are the only _man_ I've ever seen or want to." Then they made love one more time before deciding that they had to be grown-ups and go to work.

When they came out to the kitchen, Gail smiled and asked if anyone had any injuries. "Gail!" they wailed in unison while she laughed.

SCHEMING

As Taylor drove his bosses to their respective offices, his bosses necked in the back seat. Taylor just rolled his eyes as they pulled up to Carrick's law office.

"Well, here goes nothing. Now we agreed. The army of CPOs will sit out in their vehicles," insisted Ana. "And you," insisted Taylor, "will go nowhere without them. No quick coffee runs down the street, right? Ana?" "Yes, master," she sighed. Christian pulled her close and kissed her for the thousandth time that morning. He didn't let on but it killed him to let her go. He was scared and he just wanted to lock her up in Escala until Morton was captured.

He looked around but he didn't see any banged up, rusted out pickup trucks with patches of the red it used to be. He didn't know that Ana knew Morton was nearby. She knew Morton and she was ready for him. She had her .357 magnum in her bag and she had her plan.

Morton had parked his truck behind a building across the street from the law offices. Meanwhile, he was hiding behind a dumpster, watching….wondering how he was going to get around those cars, those guards out front. He knew that he could take them all out but it would be too loud and messy. He pondered how he could get Ana alone. He didn't know that she was thinking the same thing. She wanted him to get to her, to kidnap her. She was ready for him and she was going to end him. She'd always had to be practical and tough. She trusted in what she was going to do and felt no guilt. Nor would she ever tell Christian. She'd take it to her grave. She didn't know how he'd feel and she would not make him think about it.

She'd be asked why she took the tracking device and how it was that she just happened to have a .357 in her boot. She'd very politely tell the cops that she knew that Morton was coming for her so she needed to be prepared. She wondered if she could fake quaking.

There was an alley behind the law building with a dead end. For that reason, the CPOs felt Morton wouldn't drive his truck down that way. But Ana knew his way of thinking. Every day she would go into the alley to dump shredded materials into the dumpster. And she knew that Morton would figure that out sooner or later. She was counting on it.

She had written a letter to Taylor carefully outlining her knowledge of Morton and how he worked. He would not use his long-range rifle to take her out. No, he would want to get her alone for a while to treat her the way he used to. A couple of hours of humiliation, threats, beatings, rape and when she was thoroughly done, he'd strangle her. He had a dump of an old trailer hidden back in the woods. She was one of the few people who knew about it because he'd taken her there a few times when he'd grabbed her. Every Friday night when her parents went out drinking at their favorite bar, Ana would try to escape the inevitable by sneaking out the back door and hiding in the woods all night but there were the times when Morton would catch her and take her to the trailer. It was almost impossible to find so she had taken one of the tracking devices out of the security office and would tag the trailer when they arrived. They shouldn't count on using the one on his truck. Morton was wily and he would either look for the device and remove it or switch vehicles. Once she told Taylor everything she could think of, she sealed the envelope and left it with Gail to give to Taylor no later than 10 am.

"And Gail, tell Christian that I know exactly what I'm doing and I will be okay. Just Christian."

At 9:30 she tucked her gun into her pretty suede boots and the tracking device into the other boot. Then she quietly picked up the basket of shredded documents and slipped out the back door. Everything counted on Morton grabbing her in the alley. Ana wanted this done today. Morton obliged.

Morton pulled into the alley, trapping Ana against the dumpster and pulled out his gun, motioning to her to get into the truck. Then, grinning as if he fooled those smart CPOs, he showed Ana the tracking device and tossed it into the dumpster.

He laughed as he climbed behind the wheel, "Guess you thought them smart ass guards of yours would know where you were, eh?" Ana tried to look terrified and helpless all the while she was thinking "Just drive, you dumb ass. I want to get home for dinner."

Ana hadn't activated the tracker yet. She, too, wanted time all alone with Morton. She'd wait until they got to the trailer. Meanwhile, she pleaded with Morton to let her go. Her fiancé, she said, had a lot of money and would pay anything to get her back. Oh, he'll get you back, alright, Morton replied but the mess you're gonna be won't be much use to him.

As they passed a gas station, he ordered her to give him her phone which he then tossed into the back of a pickup filled with hay. You thought I was dumb, didn't ya, bitch? Well, they ain't gonna find you until I want them to. Meanwhile, we's gonna have some fun like we used to, 'member?

Ana pretended to cry and cringe. He told her to shut up and then he punched her cheek. While she 'cried' out in pain, she was thinking, 'good, mark me up, dumbo'.

It was a long drive to Montesano and Ana had to concentrate on her mission. It was hard. She kept slipping into thoughts of Christian. He would know by now that she had been taken. He would count on the tracking device and would soon realize that it was in the dumpster. They would try to track her phone and would soon realize that it was in a pickup filled with hay. They had nothing to go on but the possibility that Morton would take her back to Montesano. Thoughts of Christian filled with anguish, terrified, made her feel so guilty that she'd have to shut her mind down and focus on Morton. She could have told Taylor her plan but they would never have let her do it. And, at best, they would have captured Morton and then until the day he died, she would have waited for one of his prison buddies to come for her the way a couple of his bar buddies had come for that poor girl who was willing to testify. No, she couldn't live that way.

They'd been driving for more than four hours and were close now to Montesano. Morton hadn't shut up for most of the drive as he enjoyed describing in detail what he planned to do to her. She was getting tired of pretending to shake and cry, tired of pleading for her life. She could only hope that nothing went wrong. By now Taylor would have alerted the state and local police and they'd be watching for the truck. She felt it best to prepare Morton to avoid these pitfalls.

"This truck is distinctive. The Greys, in particular Christian, are very important people and they'll have every cop in the state watching these roads," she whimpered.

He punched her again, hard on the side of the head. She saw stars and feared that she might fall unconscious. She had to keep her wits about her. "You stupid bitch. You ain't never had no brains. That's why you give birth to that freak."

Ana clenched her fists behind her back. Couldn't she kill him now? She must have enough bruises to make it self-defense. No, hold on. She could take no chances.

"I know how to dodge all those idjits. You know how many times they tried to get me on something?" He cackled at the stupidity of law enforcement. Then he veered off down a private lane, rattling around on rutted mud roads. "You think that you're something special? Huh? There been plenty of women I took a fancy to, 'course most of them had the sense to get rid of any kid but you, Jesus H. Christ, you just had to keep the freak. You know how much crap I had to take the last few years on account of having a thing like that bearing my name."

"I never gave him your name." He back handed her so fast her head slammed against thewindow. "Yeah, more disrespect. Didn't matter. Everyone knew. Well, welcome home, your final home."

They pulled up to a crumbling tin trailer tucked back so deep in the woods that no one would ever find it unless they knew where to go. "Get out, bitch." Ana did as ordered, slipping the tracker out of her boot and pretending to slip, grabbing on to the side of the trailer, attaching the device.

Once inside, Morton ordered Ana to sit on the cushions that served as a couch at the far end of the trailer while he got himself a beer. Then he started. Geez, thought Ana, it's just like old times. He has not changed his routine a bit. He slapped her a few times, then started in with the insults. She played her part, the one that used to be real when she was a girl. A lot of cringing, crying, pleading, promising to be good, asking him why he treated her like this. He'd tell her how worthless, ugly and stupid she was and force her to agree, to say yes, I am worthless, ugly and stupid.

"No one is gonna miss you, you know?" he spat at her. Then he dumped a bottle of beer over her head and laughed maniacally. Okay, she thought. Times up. Could she do it, really, kill a man? She thought of Joey and his 5+ years of living in a crib. Oh, yeah, she could do it. Besides, it had been almost 30 minutes. Taylor would be close now and Morton had gone through 5 beers and was getting meaner. Soon, he'd start to beat on her and she wouldn't allow that anymore.

She smiled at him. He looked confused. "What you think so funny, girlie?" He sneered at her.

"You," she sneered back. "You're stupid and ugly and worthless….not that that is so bad. Joey, thanks to you, had an IQ of maybe 30, his smile was a grimace and he drooled incessantly and in the eyes of most, he was worthless. Ironic, eh? Your son was like you in those ways. You saw to that. But _he_ was much loved. No one loves you, do they, Morty?" she knew how much he hated that nickname.

He bore down on her and she shoved him back with a swift kick to his chest. He looked stunned.

"Yeah, there's a whole part of the children's wing named after him and it's there because of him. He did good in this world."

Morton lunged at her again and again she kicked him back.

"That's it, you mouthy little piece of shit. I think your time sucking up air on this earth is up." He took one more swig of his beer.

Far in the distance, Ana could hear sirens. She didn't have much time. She could have held off the old man for enough time but holding him off was not the plan. She let him get close and put his hands around her throat, long enough to leave a mark. Then she reached down into her boot and pulled out the magnum. She lifted it to his temple.

"Feel that cold steel, Morty. That's a .357 magnum against your head. Now take your fuckin' hands off me."

He backed off slowly. He stared at her, at the gun. He knew that she wasn't going to let him go but he had to try. "Now, sweetie, you don't have it in you. I'm the father of your child. Besides they'll send me to federal prison for the rest of my life. Isn't that enough for you?"

"So, the state can tax me to support the likes of you? No," Ana said calmly and without malice.

"I know that you can't do it. You can't look a man in the eyes and kill him. That ain't you," he begged, sweat pouring off him.

"You know, the last time I fired this gun, some old hag told me that I didn't have it in me and I blew a hole in her $20,000 purse. But I'll give you a chance."

Morton took that to mean that he could make a run for it but when he turned for the door, she blew a hole through the cabinet next to his head. She laughed and set the gun down in her lap.

He lunged for her. She swiftly picked up the gun and blew a hole right between his eyes.

The expression on his dead face was one of being startled as he fell face first on the cushions between her legs. She set the gun off to the side and waited as the sirens screamed outside. She hoped that Christian hadn't heard the shot over the sirens. She felt tremendous guilt for what she put him through. Twice now he'd had to live through the horror of only being a viewer of terrible things happening to her. She vowed to make him happy and if he wanted her surrounded by a phalanx of CPOs, she'd agree…..well, maybe.

Her head hurt bad. She figured that she probably had a concussion, maybe even a fracture. She probably shouldn't have let Morton bang her around so much. The sound of tires on gravel and people crowding around outside interrupted her thoughts. Someone who's voice she didn't know yelled for Morton to come outside, to give it up, he was surrounded, it was all over, he didn't have a chance, etc, etc.

She called out "Christian? Are you there?"

"Yes, Ana, I'm right here," his voice was breaking.

"It's okay. Could you come in, please?" Her voice was breaking, too.

She heard Christian arguing with someone about whether it was safe and Christian, she smiled to herself, telling him to go fuck himself, he was going in. And then she was in his arms, safe and loved. She wasn't worthless or ugly. He thought that she was the most beautiful thing in the world and worth everything and more than he had. He cradled her against his chest and carried her over to the ambulance, gently laying her down on the gurney and sitting down next to the EM tech. She was vaguely aware of people talking as she and Christian just looked at each other. Yes, confirmed the tech. She had a concussion. She'd need a cat scan to see if she also had a fracture. Christian held her hand as she gave way to the darkness.

AFTERMATH

On and off Ana could hear voices. Most were soft, one was loud and angry. Christian, she smiled inwardly to herself. She looked forward to hearing what he was mad about now. She knew that Christian was holding her hand, putting his big hand on her forehead. Sometimes she could feel his head lying on her stomach. It was those times that she felt guilt. He was worried. She'd done that to him. Then she didn't know it but she cried. Christian would dab her tears, tell her he loved her and beg her to wake up.

She kept trying but she'd only get as far as hearing and feeling. Her eyelids were too heavy and the darkness was strong. Sometimes when she was awake to hear and feel, she'd smile. She'd hear Christian talking to her. He could see her smiling. He'd tease her that she was awake and just putting him on.

Then one day, there was sun in her eyes. She wanted to sleep, damnit. She tried to burrow down into the blankets. She heard Christian laughing.

"Come on, sweetheart, time to get up." She felt his warm breath on her face as he'd move under the blankets to kiss her. She growled. "Want me to close the curtains?" She grumbled something foul. He emerged and went over to the windows to shut the blinds.

Then he returned to her. "Okay, deals a deal. Got to get up now. It's getting late."

"Teeth, pee" she murmured. He laughed again. Not today, Ana. Then she remembered. For a moment, she was back with Morton. She jumped, struggling to get away, until Christian wrapped his arms around her. Then she relaxed and leaned into him.

"Love you very very very much, my Christian," she sighed.

"Love you more, my world, my life," he whispered into her hair. She vaguely wondered if they got the beer out. Then she slipped into real sleep.

The following days Ana progressed quickly. Yes, she had a severe concussion and a minor fracture of the skull. She had a face and neck full of bruises. The marks of Morton's hands around her neck had made Christian ill. She was in a coma for almost a week and even tho' he was reassured time and again, Christian didn't begin to relax until he saw her smile. Then he knew that she could hear and feel. Soon she'd be back.

There were a lot of visitors. She recognized them while they were there but couldn't remember they'd been after they left. The doctors told her that her memory would be a problem for a while but would likely improve in the months to come. Great, she thought, I'll be apologizing for months. Maybe I'll just wear a sign around my neck. She told Christian over and over to warn people that she wouldn't remember them being there 'cause she kept forgetting that she'd already told him.

Then one day she announced that she was done and she was now going home. Her doctors said no. She said 'try and stop me'. She kept taking out her IV lines because the saline drip kept making her pee. She'd pulled her catheter out and fearful that she would do damage and tired of cleaning up the mess, the nurses finally removed it. Leaning on her IV stand, she walked to the bathroom until one day, she could do it alone. She called Gail and asked her to bring her something to wear. Christian just shook his head in defeat. We're going home, he told the doctors. He was given a long list of possible issues to watch for and foods that she couldn't have and appointments to keep.

She was so excited to be going home, she was bouncing in her wheelchair. First, before they left, she wanted to see Joey's Place. Christian promised her that he'd been keeping an eye on things as had Elliot…although Elliot had been 'keeping an eye' on Belinda the CNA more than the nursery conditions.

They'd been on several dates and had not yet had sex. Elliot hadn't even complained!

The center looked really good, well-taken of, bright and cheery. Ana checked every diaper and changed a couple. She and Christian each picked up a child and cuddled them for a while, taking them out into the sunshine and rocking them in the new cushy chairs. Ana cried a bit and buried her face in Christian's chest. While he held her, Belinda rubbed her back. Then she showed Ana a needlepoint she'd made that showed a beaming little brown-haired boy on a swing with an inscription that said 'Hi, Momma. I'm playing'. Belinda had hung the needlepoint on a wall with pictures of Joey and other deceased children. In the picture, the little boy's t-shirt said 'Joey'.

"If you'd rather take it home"…..Belinda began to say.

"No, it belongs here. I love it. Thank you so much, Belinda," smiled Ana while Christian leaned down and kissed Belinda's cheek.

"How's my brother behaving?" asked Christian.

"He's a real good guy and I'm enjoying his company," replied Belinda. Good, thought Christian, no gushing. He needs someone level-headed. Every other girl he'd ever dated had hung all over him, telling him how hot he was, dollar signs in their eyes.

"Home, dear?" Christian nuzzled Ana's neck.

"Home, dear," Ana sighed into his chest.

HOME DEAR

In the elevator, Ana told Christian that she wanted him to love her and he reminded her that she wasn't even supposed to have left the hospital. He kicked himself for forgetting to ask the doctor about sex. Ana was still softly asking him to take off her clothes when the elevator doors opened.

Holding Ana in his arms, he beheld the ice-cold visage of his little sister. She looked at the woman in his arms and her lip curled into a sneer. Ana's eyes were closed and he thought that she'd fallen asleep again as she had been off and on.

"Aw, is wittle Ana sweepy? Do wittle Ana need a nappy?" Geez, Christian, when are you going to snap out of it?"

"What do you want, Mia? Ana's been in the hospital for more than a week and she's still recovering so I'd like to put her to bed. Have a seat," Christian said, dreading the coming discussion. He carried Ana into their bedroom and undressed her and tucked her in. He briefly considered disrobing himself and locking the door but he knew Mia would just pound on it. He could have Taylor carry her out but still he'd have to face her sooner or later.

"Alright, Mia, let's keep it down. I want Ana to rest."

"Neiman's refused my card this morning. Said it was declined. I said no one declines Christian Grey but she called and was told that YOU cancelled the card. What the hell, Christian?" Mia'sface was turning red.

"Come with me," Christian ordered. Mia followed him into his study. "These are the bills you accumulated in just the last month," he said, throwing several sheaves of paper at her. "One month of clothes, meals, jewelry and assorted goodies."

"So, what? I'll bet your piece spends double that," Mia whined.

"Ana chopped up her Amex card. I'm going to have a devil of a time getting her to accept a card when we're married. And watch your mouth."

"Boy, she's really got some moves, doesn't she? Mark my words, the minute that ring is on her finger, she'll wipe out Neiman's."

Christian chuckled. "Well, maybe Walmart….."

"Well, fix this. I want to go pick up my things before dinner!" raged Mia.

"It is fixed, Mia. No more Amex. No more free-loading. It is finally clear to me that I have been the major contributor to the she-monster that is Mia Grey. If you ever have a chance of growing up, you have to get a job and start taking care of yourself."

"It's her, isn't it! She's the bad influence here! Before she came along, you loved me and took care of me but now it's all about your whore!" Mia was purple with rage.

Christian clenched his fist at his sides and looked down at the floor, trying desperately to keep from socking his own sister. "One more insult about my fiancé and I will lose my temper, Mia."

There was a small knock at the door and, thinking it was Taylor, Christian called "come in."

Unfortunately, it was Ana, wearing her fluffy white bathrobe and looking half asleep and fearful.

Christian rushed to her. "I heard screaming and it wasn't you and I thought Elena got out and I got scared that she'd hurt you"….the words flew from her lips in a soft rush and her robe fell open without either knowing it. Mia's hand flew over her mouth in horror at the sight of Ana's wounds, some still healing.

Christian pulled her robe together and wrapped her in his arms. "It's just me and Mia fighting, honey. No one's in danger, I promise."

"Are you fighting over me? I don't want you to fight because of me?" Tears flowed down her face. "You love your baby sister. Don't fight over me. I'm not worth it, Christian," Ana begged.

"You're worth fighting Goliath. I just took Mia's Amex away from her and she's upset."

Ana's breathing was ragged. Christian feared that she was about to hyperventilate, one of the issues that the doctor warned him about. He led her to the sofa and had her sit. "Look at me, Ana. Good girl. Now breathe with me the way the doctor taught us, okay? Slowly in, hold it, slowly out, keep going." Staring into Christian's eyes, Ana breathed along with him until everything slowed down.

"It's okay, now. My chest feels okay, now," promised Ana. Then she leaned in to whisper in Christian's ear. After a while, he began to object to whatever she said but she smiled at him, put her hand on his cheek and said, "baby steps, baby." He smiled back and said okay. He looked up at Mia and said that he'd be right back. Then he picked up Ana and carried her back to bed while she protested that she could walk and he said that he liked carrying her. He said when they were old and he was too weak, he'd hire someone to carry him while he was carrying her and she giggled and his heart flipped.

After a while, he returned to his study. Mia started to open her mouth and he held up a finger in warning..."one wrong word, Mia, and I toss you down the elevator shaft. Got it?"

Mia nodded. "Her stomach….?"

Christian sighed. "It happened while you were in Paris. Elena Lincoln beat her with a spiked cane over the entire front of her body and the bottoms of her feet. Only now can she walk far comfortably. She also beat her face. Most of it will fade. Some of the blows were so bad that she'll need plastic surgery tho' I doubt she'll care and I sure don't. Elena thought I would but that woman knows nothing about love. I didn't either, until I met Ana and Joey."

"Now, it's been suggested that I teach you to be responsible. So, I will reinstate your Amex card but with a sensible limit. You'll have to learn to budget. You also will have to get a job or the card will be cancelled. You have 3 months to begin to establish yourself as an adult. I know you don't want to hear comparisons to Ana but you're going to. She doesn't give a rodent's rear about my money yet I've felt for a long time that your feelings for me have much to do with my monetary generosity toward you. Also, you're several months older than Ana yet she has lived on her own since she was 18 and left foster care. She supported herself and her son. She doesn't need me, Mia, to take care of her but I need her. Now I'd like to be proud of you. Call Neiman's and tell them to put everything back on the shelves. Start hunting for a job. Grow up."

At that, he escorted a stunned Mia to the elevator, pushed the button, kissed her cheek and turned in the direction of the bedroom.

SUNDAY BRUNCH AT GREY MANOR

One month later

"Christian," Ana sounded worried, "I think I might like to get cosmetic surgery on my body after all."

"Why?" he called from the bath vanity as he shaved. "And in your case, it's called reconstructive surgery. Did the doctor say something?"

"No," Ana answered from the closet. "While I was staying home, I didn't mind but I'm looking at myself in this dress and I look scary. I'd like to swim and, golly, Christian, I bother my own eyes. I have too much vanity to wear a bathing costume in front of other people."

 _Bathing costume, chuckled Christian. Who but my Ana would say bathing costume?_

"You know the scars don't mean squat to me, don't you?" he said as he came up behind her, encircling her waist and nuzzling her neck.

"I know, love, but you don't count," giggled Ana.

"SAY WHAT?"

"I just meant that you love me. But when we went to the beach last weekend, I scared children and people stared. I don't like being the focus of attention."

Christian let out an exaggerated sigh of relief before replying, "You did that on purpose, you minx."

"Yes," giggled Ana, "I did….but seriously, Christian, tell me that you didn't see that toddler crying and pointing at me. Gosh, the filthy look his mother gave me. I think she thought that I purposely got scary tattoos. Besides, I looked up scars on google and it said that over time scars tighten the skin and can hurt."

"Really? Ok, let's talk to Mom today and get a referral," agreed Christian. "You know, we don't have to be at the folks for another hour…hint, hint." He reached up and began to unzip her dress.

"It's a 20-minute drive and we'd need another shower. 'Course, thanks to you, my panties are wet. These are also expensive La Perla panties and I'll not have you ripping them off me. Back, boy, down, boy," Ana laughed as she tried to dodge Christian, jumping on and off the bed and locking herself in the bathroom.

"OPEN THIS DOOR, WOMAN," bellowed Christian, "I NEED MY ANA FIX!"

"Go lie down and I'll come out," promised Ana.

Christian quickly jumped into bed. It had only been a week since they'd been cleared for sex and they'd been at it round the clock.

"Are you in bed?" asked Ana.

"Yes, are you naked?" asked Christian.

The door opened and a definitely naked woman emerged to stand on the threshold, one hand on her hip, one leaning all the way up on the doorjamb and one leg crooked coquettishly over the other. Her expression was sultry as she began to slowly make her way toward the bed. As Christian started to get up, Ana put up a warning hand. He lowered himself back down on the bed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His dick was rigid and standing like a flag pole, his hands gripping the sheets.

"Ana," he croaked out.

She smiled and continued to slowly make her way to the bed. She put a foot on the footboard and climbed up unto the mattress, walking carefully over Christian's body. When she reached his groin, she smiled and asked if he would mind if she sat down. His head merely bobbed 'yes' frantically. She thanked him and slowly lowered herself down onto his dick, immediately clenching her vaginal muscles around him. Then she raised herself and once again lowered herself and each time moved a little bit faster while she balanced herself on Christian's broad shoulders, brushing his lips with her own.

Christian's eyes had rolled back in his head as he struggled to breathe. Then he grabbed Ana's hips and flipped her onto her back. With his arms under her knees and his hands beside her breasts, he slid slowly in and then out until she was begging him to go faster, go harder. He came screaming her name and his love for her, releasing her legs to wrap around his back and covering her mouth with his as she screamed something in gibberish.

As always, his favorite place to be was inside her and he was happy that his dick was so long and thick that it stayed put until he pulled out of her. She complained anyway when he left her so he leaned over her on his elbows, his forehead touching her or his head buried in the crook of her neck and shoulder. To be disconnected had, from the start, been difficult for them.

Christian reached over to the nightstand and picked up his phone.

"Hi, Mom. Ana and I are going to be a bit late. Hey, I didn't invent women and their need for hairstyling and makeup. We'll hurry."

"I'm tempted to punish you for blaming this one on me," snarled Ana, "except that I feel wonderful." For minutes, they simply looked into one another's eyes.

"Baby, when?" asked Christian.

He was looking down into her eyes with such love that Ana knew to what he was referring. She looked back up into his eyes, now dark with need, wondering what to tell him.

They had come so far and through so much…she knew that she could trust him completely but she didn't feel deserving of him.

"I'm afraid, Christian. I know that I'm not good enough for you and sooner or later, you'll realize that and I won't survive it when you walk away. I know that you'll be gentle and kind when you tell me to go and it will hurt you so badly to have to hurt me. You know, kinda lose-lose."

Christian touched her forehead with his and then kissed her deeply and passionately. When he looked at her again, she saw tears in his eyes. "It kills me that you think that you're not good enough for me when the opposite is the truth. If you had an affair, if you left me and took everything I have, if you spent it all and then years later, came back to me and I knew you were lying when you said that you came back for love…..I'd fall to my knees, filled with gratitude that you had come home. I have no pride when it comes to you. I just love you and need you so badly, don't you understand that you are it, all and everything to me. I just need one more thing from you that I can't do without, Ana…one more thing and the only thing you haven't given me.

I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Ana? Trust that I'll always love you, never leave you?"

"I've always loved October when the weather is just right and golden leaves cover the ground."

Christian frowned. "That's almost 3 months away, Ana," he whined.

"It usually takes a year to plan a wedding, Christian. And you have to make plans, too. Prepping your company to handle things while you're away 'cause I want my honeymoon, for instance.

They stared at each other for several more minutes though Christian didn't know why. He was, of course, going to give her anything she wanted.

"Where?"

"Outside, you choose."

Christian, with utmost reluctance, pulled out of Ana. "We'd better get to our brunch, babe."

"Courthouse would take just 3 days," he offered half-heartedly. Ana just smiled.

"Now I'm going to change my panties. Do not get them wet again," she warned.

Christian grinned wickedly at her and she sighed dramatically. "I'm going to make you stop at the drugstore and go inside to buy panty shields, mister."

"Well, it's about da…darn time," snarled Elliot. He was trying to watch his mouth these days 'cause it only took a look from Belinda to make him regret swearing. He'd already made up his mind that he was going to marry her and he knew she wouldn't give him children when every other word out of his mouth was 'fuck'. He swore it was easier to quit smoking but he was in so deep with Belinda that he had no choice.

Belinda walked up to greet Christian and Ana, linking arms with Elliot as she approached them.

"Gosh, it's so nice to see you again. I hope that you haven't given up volunteering at Joey's Place. No one knows better than you how to treat those children. In fact, we'd love to have you attend the Sunday gatherings again if you could, you know, handle it.

I'm sorry. I guess I just realized what I asked of you. That was so insensitive of me."

"Babe, the reason that Christian and Ana are open-mouthed staring at you isn't because you are insensitive," Elliot reassured her. "The last time they saw you you were a curly, long-haired blonde. Today your hair is straight, red and bobbed at your shoulders."

"I'm sorry, Belinda, for a moment we didn't recognize you and when we did, well, Elliot is right. The change is startling. Please forgive us _our_ rudeness," asked Ana.

Belinda looked at Elliot with a twinkle in her eyes. "Should I?" Elliot beamed at her, "Heck, yeah." Belinda laughed and reaching for the top of her head, picked up the bob and revealed that it was a wig. She turned around to show that her entire head, from the forehead back to the nape of her neck was completely burned and bald. Then she returned the wig to her head, turning to Elliot who then adjusted it.

Belinda reached over to a shocked Christian and patted his arm. "I'm sorry. Your brother inspires me to be a brat."

"That isn't it, Belinda," corrected Ana, "we're just stunned that Elliot finally grew up. His prior ports of call have been skanky, bottle-blondes….not real women."

"You wound me, Ana," pouted Elliot. "On the other hand, I did grow up just after my first day with Belinda."

"Well, sit down and tell us about it. We noticed the sexual tension at the grand opening but hadn't heard a thing since. 'Course, we've been out of the loop for a while," acknowledged Ana.

So, Elliot told them about meeting Belinda and being knocked off his feet. He stuck around the Trevelyan Center long after everyone had gone, rocking babies. Whenever she had time, Belinda would come over to talk. He asked her when she was off for the day and could he take her to dinner. She'd hesitated and he was devastated. He'd never met a girl like her and was terrified that she was taken. He just sat looking up at her, breaking a sweat and waiting for the "you're a nice guy but". He'd never wanted a woman like he wanted Belinda.

Belinda asked Elliot if he could wait until she finished her shift and then she walked away. 30 minutes later she pulled on a heavy cardigan and smiled at Elliot who was doing handstands and fist pumping in his head. They'd walked down the street to Mike's and spent 'til closing eating fries and talking. He'd never felt so relaxed, so at ease with a woman.

Belinda was certainly cute but he'd been fucking certified beauties since puberty. Looking back, none of them seemed to stand out like this girl did. She laughed a lot and seemed to find the humor in everything. And smart! Every word out of her mouth was fascinating. He usually sat drinking, listening to the girl babble, until he felt he'd spent enough time before suggesting that he and the girl go back to her place. The alcohol and the fuck were his thrill for the night.

He finally asked her where she'd been burned. She looked perfect to him. So, she told him that when she was in high school, she was captain of the cheerleaders and girlfriend of the team quarterback. She was quite conscious of her position and went out of her way to befriend other students. Still, there was constant jealousy and anger aimed at her. One night after a game, she was jumped on her way to the parking lot by a couple of girls who knocked her over the head.

When she came to in the hospital, she was in extreme pain and her parents were standing over her bed bawling. A nurse hooked up a IV drip which put her right back to sleep. And that's how things were for a couple of weeks. She found out later that medical comas were common with burn cases because the pain was so extreme. She also found that the girls had dragged her into a restroom where they chopped off her long, blonde locks to within an inch of her scalp. But that wasn't enough. They poured a beer over her head and lit her on fire. Fortunately, a group of girls walked in as Ana's attackers ran out and saw her lying on the floor with her head covered in flames.

The new group covered her head with their coats and put out the flames before her whole head was engulfed. I was quite lucky, she told Elliot, although it took her a while to fully understand that. A few months of both individual and group therapy, plus a look around the hospital, and she came to realize that being burned and bald wasn't a bad outcome.

The girls who attacked her might have gotten away with it if the second group hadn't recognized the two. Their lawyers tried to paint the girls as victims of an egotistical meanie who cyberbullied them. Her parents hired tech experts to show that the online videos purporting to show the girls being tortured by Belinda were fakes. The two girls, both 18, were sent away for 10 years.

Elliot was speechless. This woman he was crazy for was burned and bald. All those shiny, golden curls were fake. She could see in his eyes that he was torn. Her boyfriend, the quarterback, who said he loved her, came and visited her in the hospital while she was asleep. Her head was no longer bandaged and the burns were visible. He'd vomited and left…never to return. None of her classmates came by and her few friends had deserted her when she became head cheerleader and started dating the handsome quarterback.

She didn't tell Elliot any of that. She didn't want him to feel obligated to still date her. Without his asking, Belinda removed her wig and showed him the back of her head. She returned the wig to her head and said that she had to use the restroom to make adjustments. That was true enough but she also wanted to give him the opportunity to make a getaway. When she emerged from the restroom, Elliot was gone. She felt sad but understood.

When she stepped out of Mike's, she was astonished to find Elliot leaning against the storefront. He hadn't run off. She apologized for the shocking ending to tonight's entertainment, she laughed. He took her hand and asked her if it hurt. Sometimes, if she was stressed, she could feel tightness but mostly no. He just nodded.

He said that his car was down the street but Belinda pointed to her door next to Mike's. She thanked him for a lovely night and turned to unlock her door as Elliot began walking to his car. Then, as she began to climb the stairs, she heard knocking on the door and turned to find Elliot. She asked him if he'd forgotten something and he answered yes as he took her face between his huge hands and kissed her with an intensity she'd never felt before. Then he told her that he forgot to ask her when he could see her again. When she began to protest that he needn't feel bad for her or try to show that her injuries didn't bother him, he cut her off with another passionate kiss and she could understand that he wasn't being kind. He was being horny.

She asked for his phone and entered her number. She told him she was free Saturday and he told her he'd pick her up for breakfast at 10 am. He beamed at her and told her to get inside so he'd know she was safe before he left.

The next morning Elliot dropped by Mike's while Belinda was working and had a chat with Mike.Elliot was pleased to know that Mike was the sole owner of the whole building and was in agreement with Elliot's plans. So, together with a couple of his workers, Elliot torn out the door that he'd left Belinda at the night before. It was the original door to a 100-year-old building, with half the door being window and a simple deadbolt. He and his crew installed a steel door and jamb with no window. In place of the window, they put in a buzzer and an inconspicuous camera along with a monitor in Belinda's apartment.

While in Belinda's apartment, Elliot noticed a slew of other projects. It needed painting, updated kitchen and bath, new windows, various safety measures. He could have done everything that day but wisely decided to talk to Belinda first. That night he sat in his truck and watched Belinda walk down the street to Mike's. When she reached her door, she stood and stared and then yelled 'ELLIOT GREY!' He leapt out of his truck and ran over to her door, handed her the keys and stumbled through an explanation of what he did and why as she stood, looking at him with her arms crossed.

When he'd finished, he apologized for the intrusion and began to beg her forbearance when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her lips. She told him that he was very good at installing doors but he was even better at sucking face. Thus, they stood in front of her new door and kissed until his pants were too tight to bear. She told him that she had an early shift so she'd have to get to bed. Then she handed him one of the keys to her new door and said that she trusted him to do whatever he wanted to do with her apartment.

With that permission, Elliot really went to town. Belinda was out the door at 5 and Elliot and his crew, hidden on a side street, pulled up out front the moment that they saw Belinda disappear into the hospital.

First, he replaced all the windows, then he gutted the walls, put in insulation and tossed all of her kerosene heaters in the dumpster.

He installed a tiny furnace in a closet and wrapped the floors with forced air vents. Next, he tore out her ancient wreck of a kitchen and replaced it. Then he did the same with her bathroom. Her tub was an ancient rusted claw foot, the toilet was also ancient and her vanity was just a sink.

He installed a tub/shower combo with jets, a tall toilet and large vanity. He also put alarms on all the windows. She had three bedrooms. Two were smaller and simply filled with junk so Elliot took out a wall and made the room into a walk-in closet. With new carpet and paint the apartment was a dream.

His crew refused to leave until they met Belinda and saw her reaction to her rehabbed home.

They were emotionally invested as well as Elliot because he wouldn't shut up about this wonderful woman they were working for. Besides, all the guys knew that Elliot had never had a girlfriend and whoever she was, well, she had to be something special. They kidded him as to why he was doing all this work when he'd probably be begging her to move in with him soon.

As Belinda left work, she noticed the multitude of vehicles labeled Grey Design and Construction crowding the street. She went into Mike's for a while before heading home. Even seeing just the railings and the bright new paint on the walls, she was delighted. When she walked into her living room, she asked one of the men to please take her purchases because she was afraid she'd drop them.

Elliot led her room thru room. Belinda said nothing, just stared. When Elliot showed her the final change…her carpeted, painted bedroom with a new bed and nightstand and her walk-in closet, she again said nothing. Elliot stood behind her, watching, wondering, until he noticed that her shoulders were trembling. He walked to her, turned her to face him, and saw that she was crying. He held her head to his chest and rubbed her back until she quieted a bit. Still shaking, Belinda looked into his eyes and in a soft, whisper-like voice simply said thank you. It meant more to him that if she'd squealed and gushed from room to room.

Once they'd collected themselves, Belinda insisted on being introduced to each of the crew who simply said that they were just doing their jobs. She looked into their brown eyes with her soft blue and then hugged each man in turn. She quietly said to the crew that they did their jobs with love and that she would never forget them. And she didn't. Over the following years, she held Christmas parties, picnics, outdoor movie nights and she never forgot a birthday. But for now she opened the bag and unloaded dinner for everyone complete with many choices for desserts.

Now the guys understood what Elliot had been going on about. As they all sat around Belinda's parlor, talking about the problems they ran into, how they argued over paint colors, how this or that project had been whose idea, they laughed and reveled in the joy. Yes, Elliot was right, doing this job, working like madmen, skipping lunch….every bit of it was worth it…for Belinda.

Gradually, the crew took Elliot's hint to get lost as he kept saying, "Great job. See you in the morning." Then he followed Belinda around again as she looked at things, asked about the security measures, over and over questioned and marveled at how he could get so much done in 8 hours. As they cuddled on the couch, Elliot explained plumbing and electrical issues until he realized that Belinda was asleep and had an early shift so he carried her to her bed, taking off her shoes, her cardigan and her wig. He'd built a special revolving shelf for all her wigs so now he placed this one on its Styrofoam head. He kissed Belinda and left, wanting more than anything to lie down with her and hold her as she slept.

"That is quite a story," remarked Ana. She didn't say that she didn't ever imagine Elliot to be so much like Christian. As the guys started talking about the Mariners, Ana leaned over to Belinda

"I'd love to see your wig collection sometime. I'll bring lunch?" Belinda beamed her yes. "I do hope you return to Joey's Place, Ana," pleaded Belinda. "We've so missed you and the special qualities you bring. Your fiancée may have financed the project and convinced Jellison to do it but you've brought so much attention to the center over the years. Sunday gatherings need you. Parents need you to show them what to do. You've convinced so many people to love their kids.

So, now that you're healthy…..

"Actually, Belinda, I'll have to get back to you on that. I've decided to undergo reconstructive surgery to rid myself of the worst of these scars. I don't know what is involved or how ambulatory I'll be. Otherwise, yes, it's always been my intention to return. Christian and I are engaged so it is my intention to be a professional volunteer and Jellison's pain in the ass.

"That's great to hear, Ana," smiled Belinda.

Leaning in closer, Ana asked Belinda if she wanted to marry Elliot. Belinda blushed and beamed.

Suddenly, Elliot stood up and looked around the room. Everyone but Mia was present. Grace was asked to get her to come down but after several minutes she reappeared, shaking her head sadly.

"Is this about me and/or Christian?" Ana asked.

"She is just very stubborn, Ana," conceded Grace. "Don't blame yourself."

Ana rose from her seat and headed up the stairs. "Ana, don't put yourself in the line of fire," pleaded Christian, but she didn't hear him. She approached Mia's door, knocked and walked in.

There was Mia lying on her bed. Her room was an ungodly mess with clothes everywhere. Ana picked up a dress with the price tag still attached while Mia watched her. "Is this garment new?" asked Ana.

Mia huffed in disgust. "No, that's from 2 seasons ago. You don't have any fashion sense, do you?"

"Nope. So, it's two years old and still has the tags on it. You don't have any financial sense, do you?" Mia muttered "Get out" and Ana ignored her.

"So, how come it's on the floor. Has it spent 2 years on the floor?"

"I was thinking of selling it. Could you just leave?"

"So, what can you get for a 2-year-old $2000 dress?"

"Depends on the store. In a good consignment shop, maybe $500," responded Mia.

"Looking around this room and in this closet, geez, Mia, you could collect thousands," said Ana in awe. "Is that the plan?"

"What do you care anyway?

"Well, I don't really care about your wardrobe, that's true," allowed Ana. "However, you'll soon be my sister by marriage and therefore, you're of interest to me. Also, Christian adores you so…"

"Adores me," scoffed Mia. "Maybe he did once but now he has you…."

"Christian has a huge heart and he hurts easily so that's why he sometimes pretends that he doesn't care. You may think that he put a limit on your Amex because he hates you but if he thought that you were maturing, he wouldn't care about the limit. He just of late realized that he was holding you back from growing up.

He doesn't think that you're happy either, that you try to amuse yourself with clothes and clubbing to distract you from facing your dull reality, your lack of purpose in life. I know what it's like to lose your purpose in life and face an abyss of nothing. He reminds me a dozen times a day that he loves me and that helps a lot. If it weren't for Christian, I would probably have just driven off a cliff after Joey died. In fact, before I met Christian, I had made plans to surrender myself to Steve Morton to be killed once Joey passed. I went to work for Elena as a sub because I wanted the pain, pain that would blot out the pain of knowing how Joey suffered every day, the pain of knowing that he wouldn't…wouldn't…live much…." at this Ana broke down and began hyperventilating.

Mia sat up in bed and looked at Ana in horror. She wasn't faking. She was white, clammy, gasping for breath. Mia jumped off the bed and took Ana in her arms, helping her to lie down. Then she grabbed her phone and texted Christian.

Ana talking about Joey. Collapsed.

In less than a minute, Grace and Christian ran up the stairs and into Mia's room. "Mom, she was talking about how the pain," Mia glanced at Christian, "I mean, the pain of being beaten by Elena helped to blot out the pain of Joey dying and then she began breathing really hard, turned white. I only just got her to the bed before she collapsed."

Christian took Ana's head in his big hands and yelled her name, over and over. Finally, she lifted her lids a bit and he kissed her. Then he ordered her to breathe with him. Grace took her blood pressure and temperature, telling Mia to get a wet, cool cloth for her forehead. Slowly, Ana's breath began to even out, her temperature settled down and her bp stabilized.

"I promise you, Christian, I didn't do anything. We were just talking and then she started talking about Joey and suddenly she couldn't breathe," Mia was in tears and Christian put his arm around her. Mia felt him trembling. She had never known her big brother to be scared. She stopped crying and put her arms around him. "Look, Christian, she's getting her color back. She's breathing fine." She reached over and brushed all the apparel debris off the bed and then guided a shaky Christian to lie down with Ana.

"I'll save you a piece of pie," Mia smiled at him. "She's okay now, right, Mom?" "I think you both are," Grace smiled lovingly at Mia.

Christian wrapped his arms around Ana and curled her into him, holding her head and kissing her hair while Grace and Mia closed the door and descended the stairs.

"Mom, what happened?!" asked Elliot, holding tightly to Belinda's hand.

"Apparently, Ana was talking about Joey when Mia noticed that she was hyperventilating. The doctors had warned us to watch for that when she was released…well, when she walked out of the hospital. Thanks to Mia's text, we got to her in time. Her blood pressure was soaring but it's back to normal. After one these episodes, she sleeps for a while. So does Christian. I don't know who is more exhausted.

So, since it could be a while before they rejoin us, we're just going to have dinner and put something aside for them for later. I'd like to wait on desserts IF you can handle that, Elliot," Grace teased.

"But we have two pies, one from Ana and one from Mia. We were going to have dueling pies."

"Elliot, if you're a good boy and stop whining, you can have a couple of cookies, Okay?" soothed Belinda. Elliot nodded petulantly.

"Geez, Elliot, it's a good thing you have a manager finally. 'Cause the way you eat, you need the exercise of building," mocked Mia.

"Look who's talking. When was the last time you got on the treadmill, Mia?"

And so it went for another hour before Christian carefully escorted Ana down the stairs. She was clearly still wobbly but she'd insisted that she wasn't going to miss another minute of dinner.

"Hey," asked Elliot, "everybody all better?"

"Yes," smiled Ana.

"No," frowned Christian.

"Well," laughed Carrick, "it's good to have all the Greys in agreement."

"PIE!" yelled Elliot.

"And you say I'm the immature one," Mia whined.

"Well, you're certainly the mature one when it comes to food," giggled Belinda. "I swear if it came to a choice between me and pie, I'm not sure I'd win out."

"Aw, babe, all you'd have to do to win is get naked."

"Okay," Carrick said, calling the room to order, "these pies have not been labeled as to baker. One is a multi-fruit pie and the other is a simple apple pie. The slices are small in order to afford everyone a taste of each pie. Don't start, Elliot," Carrick cautioned his eldest who was already trying to get bigger slices.

"Ready, steady, go!" cried Carrick.

There was a mad male frenzy while the women calmly considered each bite. When Elliot finished his slices, he gave his patented Grey puppy eye look to Belinda who gave him her patented blue eyed 'I'm not giving you my pie' look. Christian barely looked at the pie, just Ana.

When the pie was gone, votes were tallied and the simple apple pie won. Christian smiled at Mia and said, "You went out to Gramps orchard, didn't you?"

"I spent a good half day out there, picking and rejecting apples. Gramps kept saying, "Now what the devil is wrong with this one. The worm, Gramps. The worm."

Everyone laughed uproariously 'cause Gramps didn't see the problem with just cutting around the worm.

Mia looked shyly at Ana and Christian. Then she leaned in close. She was nervous. "It was kind of you both to vote for me after the way I've behaved. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Then Christian and Ana both hugged her. "I recognized Gramp's apples...Ana's pie, as delicious as it was didn't stand a chance against the apples and the cinnamon." "Oh, the cinnamon with apples, truly, Mia.

I voted for your pie on its own merits," smiled Ana. "Course, I'm expecting the recipe."

Then, for the second time, Elliot stood and asked for everyone's attention. He looked about ready to faint but he soldiered on. He got down on one knee and took Belinda's hand in his, beginning the speech he'd practiced for a week.

"Belinda, I've been in love with you since I turned to see who'd tapped me on the shoulder to offer me a baby to hold. I was gob-smacked. I had to sit down or I would have stumbled to the floor and dropped the baby. I was truly dizzy. I wondered if I had suddenly come down with something. I was the manwhore of Seattle. I'd never been in love and had no frame of reference to help me to understand. I know we talked a bit but I was just jabbering as far as I knew. I was pretty much in a daze the rest of the day and evening. I don't even remember driving home.

My first conscious moment was waking up, still in my clothes and feeling terrified, recalling your front door. I've wanted to love you and care for you and keep you safe ever since. I'd never felt anything but lust for women but suddenly there I was wanting to look after someone who'd look after me.

Belinda, I want to love, honor you and keep you safe and well for the rest of our lives.

Will you please, please trust me with your heart and your body…will you marry me, baby?"

He held out a small blue Tiffany box, displaying a round white diamond surrounded by small pink diamonds on a white gold band. Belinda blinked back tears and buried her face in her hands, leaning down into Elliot's chest. "I kinda need an answer here, babe." She threw her arms around Elliot's neck and sat on his knee and sobbed.

Elliot looked distressed until Christian leaned down and said, "you have your answer, dope."

Elliot picked up the girl half his size and sat with her on his lap while she cried. Eventually, she picked her head up and pointed at the box. Elliot held it out, Belinda said "Open" and then looked into his eyes. "You picked out?" "I designed it and took the design to Tiffany. Check out the inscription inside the band. Belinda read an E and B entwined followed by the word 'always'.

Then she held out her ring finger to which Elliot responded, "Oh, no, not till I hear the right word."

Belinda began to cry again and buried her face in his shoulder and Elliot sighed and said, "Say yes."

"Yes," breathed Belinda so softly that Elliot wasn't sure he'd heard her but he was going to take what he could get just like he'd take Belinda anyway he could get her. He slipped the ring on her finger and then just held her.

"Well, it's been a really dramatic afternoon here at Greyland but we have one more bit of business," announced Christian.

"It's taken me quite a while but _my_ fiancée has finally decided on the when and the where, sort of. October and outside. Discuss," he laughed.

"Yay," yelled Mia. "I have a million ideas. I mean, if you don't mind, I'd love to help plan," she said, unsure of herself since she had previously asserted that she wouldn't be attending.

Christian started to throw her rudeness back in her face but one look from Ana and he thought…let sleeping dogs lie.

"You got it, Mia," replied Ana. "Neither of us wants to do it. A caveat or two, however, simple, refined, small, friends and family. Chocolate cake for Christian with cream cheese frosting for me."

"Ah, that's my girl looking out for me," beamed Christian.

"Oh and it goes without saying, no paparazzi exposure," warned Ana.

"AMEN" cried the group as one.

"And," asked Mia, addressing Elliot and a still sniffling Belinda, any thoughts on when and where?"

"ASAP," asserted Elliot.

"Vegas," sniffled Belinda.

Well, that froze everyone in their tracks, including Elliot, who never dreamed he could get so lucky.

"Hmm…Vegas. Where did that thought come from?" Mia asked.

"Well, Elliot talks in his sleep, very clear and succinct sentences, too. Boy, you'd be amazed what's going on in this boy's head. I've gotten used to it so I just go right back to sleep. But sometimes he'll say something that really catches my interest. Clear as a bell, "I want to get married in Las Vegas." "Well, we'd been together only a short time so I was kind of curious about who he wanted to marry in Las Vegas. I asked him but he only mumbled some name I couldn't catch. That's why I was so overcome when he said that he wanted me. I really thought we'd see each other for a while and then he'd go to Vegas and marry mumblejumblefumble."

"Honey, how many times have I told you that I love you? Didn't you believe me?" Elliot looked hurt that she doubted him.

"I guess it was me who doubted myself, El. I figured that you loved me because you're such a good guy but it was hard to believe that someone like you could be in love with me."

"Okay, from now on I'll have to remember one 'I'm in love with you' for every 'I love you'. So, you don't want to really get married in Las Vegas, do you?"

"Elliot, you look me in the eye 'cause you know you can't lie to me when you look into my eyes. You want to buy the wedding rings, make reservations at that pretty white chapel by the lake, find an Elvis if possible and be married by this time next week, don't you?"

Elliot looked down into those chocolate eyes. He heard his mother yell, "NO ELVIS IMPERSONATOR!"

His heart swelled and tears brimmed in his eyes. He picked up his little fiancée, held her tightly and just whirled with her in his arms. He whispered in her ear that he couldn't believe he could love her so. "Is this really okay with you?" Belinda beamed back at him and nodded. She turned to Mia and asked, "Will you be able to plan for Vegas?"

"HA," laughed Mia. "You just watch me."

VIVA LAS VEGAS

True to her word, Mia organized almost everything from Grey Manor. She made reservations and found a real pastor from a real church to perform the ceremony. She contracted with a local wedding planner to decorate the church with flowers and drape the pews in white. She had various cakes FedExed overnight for the bride and groom to taste and she made reservations for dinner at the Picasso, a French eatery at the Bellagio where she also reserved the honeymoon suite and rooms for family and friends with the exception of Christian and Ana who insisted on staying at the Marcus Aurelius Villa for a pre-honeymoon honeymoon.

Then she asked Belinda which wig she was going to wear and took a picture of her head in that wig which she then photo shopped on the half dozen dresses that Belinda liked. Belinda picked a lovely lacy dress that looked beautiful with her blonde wig piled elegantly on her head along with a tiara. The dress had a high collar in the back which perfectly covered the burns.

Mia did the same photo shopping with dresses for Ana, herself and Grace.

The wedding was scheduled for late afternoon so Mia arranged a relaxing spa day for the ladies while the boys ran all over Vegas.

The jet set down Saturday morning and activities commenced. Elliot promised Belinda that he wouldn't drink alcohol in any form and Belinda promised him that if he did, they were not getting married that night.

"You know, bro, I used to think that Ana had you so pussy whipped. You, the Dom, would ask 'how high, my sweet'. Even though I loved Ana and saw how happy she made you, I just didn't get _your_ submission."

Christian laughed and said, "You get it now, don't you?"

"I not only get it, I love it," chuckled Elliot. "I didn't know it was possible to be this happy. I mean, I've always been a pretty content guy and, god knows, my sex life was stellar," I thought. Now I don't even _look_ at other women. I am truly just not interested."

"I'm really happy for you, El. I'm also envious. I tried to talk Ana into Vegas. Well, who knows? After she sees what Mia planned for you, maybe she'll change her mind. But, El, are you sure that this is what Belinda wants."

"Funny you should ask," chortled Elliot. "She said that if I ask her one more time, she'll sock me."

And so, on a sunny Saturday, at the small, brilliantly white, old-fashioned chapel, Christian and Elliot stood on the chapel porch. Christian rubbing comforting circles on Elliot's back while the bridegroom kept looking at his watch.

"She was supposed to be here 30 seconds ago. I knew she'd change her mind about me. During one of our fights, she called me a large ludicrous lug. That's what she's thinking now. She's probably sitting on your jet.

"Oh, thank god, they'd here. They're 2 minutes late!

"Come on, El," laughed Christian, "we're supposed to be inside. They won't get out of the car until we get out of sight."

"That's just a ruse to avoid having me see Belinda escaping."

"lelliot! Being in love really makes you stupid!" Christian was both irate and cracking up.

He dragged his brother inside and up the aisle to the altar where the smiling minister was waiting.

"Stay!" commanded Christian like he was talking to a dog. Then he walked back down and outside to collect his own beautiful fiancée. Oh, lord in heaven, Ana was a dream walking. All in pink, Mia's doing of course, with her glossy mane flowing over her shoulders. For a second, he forgot that he was supposed to walk her up the aisle. He just stared at her, his eyes glazing over.

Then Mia turned on speakers, filling the chapel with a gentle classical piece and Ana reached for Christian's arm and turned him around. They walked up the aisle with all the guests following. There was only seating for about 50 people so it was indeed an intimate affair. Christian hated having to let go of Ana and being several feet across from her but at least he could look at her throughout the 15 minutes ceremony.

Then the music changed to the Felix Mendelssohn's Wedding March and Belinda appeared in the doorway, her blonde wig piled on her head with tiny pink tea roses and baby's breath woven in amongst her blond curls. Around her neck, she wore her wedding gift from Elliot….a pendant that matched her engagement ring hanging from a chain of diamonds.

Carrick was her honorary father of the day. Belinda was a much beloved only child of older parents who had died from injuries suffered in a light plane crash when the pilot was unable to avoid a flock of geese. She thought of them as she walked to Elliot and a tear escaped from her soft brown eyes. As Carrick released her to Elliot, Elliot leaned over and kissed the tear away. He knew what she was thinking.

As the newlyweds walked back down the very short aisle, neither took their eyes off each. Ana and Christian followed with his arm around her waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Outside, on the grass by the lake, the guests threw bird seed in the air over the bride and groom while a photographer bounced around taking candid shots and group shots and shots of Belinda and Elliot. Elliot requested one of just Belinda for his desk.

Afterward, the entire wedding party and guests moved to the dinner at the Picasso. Toasts were made and everyone danced. No one noticed that Belinda, Elliot, Ana and Christian had slipped away early.

EPILOGUE

Despite Christian's displeasure at having to wait until October 15th to be Ana's husband, he found that the time flew by and had the advantage of giving Ana and Mia time to share. With Ana's guidance and sisterly love, Mia began to understand herself better. She began to know that not only was she very good at wedding planning but that it could be more than a hobby.

Christian and Ana married in the Grey Manor backyard, completely free of paparazzi. Mia had managed security so well that news of the wedding was not even announced for days after the two had already left for Europe.

Mia set up a white wooden walkway from the patio to a huge wooden platform covering half the back yard with rose arbors at either end with white chairs and tables for the guests. Christian wore a crème-colored suit with a white cummerbund and a yellow boutonniere. Elliot was seen handing over his handkerchief while Ana seemed to glide up the aisle wearing a dress with a lacy bodice, collar and long sleeves, a white satin band and a layers of white tulle flowing around her legs and ballet slippers and wearing a crown of yellow tea roses and baby's breath. Carrick again had the honor of escorting his second new daughter down the aisle to the tune Day by Day. Christian didn't know she'd heard him as she lay unconscious. When Ana reached him, she gave him a sly wink.

Christian kissed Ana chastely and then hugged her until Elliot finally poked him and said "git along, 'lil doggie." The minister spoke, Christian and Ana used traditional vows except for Christian surprising Ana by adding 'obey' to his version. When the minister said the couple could kiss, Ana whispered "Obey, my ass". Christian laughed, " You own me, baby," before kissing her too long and too passionately for the comfort of most guests. Ignoring the proper etiquette of greeting guests and thanking them for coming, the couple just danced, holding each other tightly as they swayed around barely moving to anything from rock to romantic.

They were just beginning their lives together and we can only hope that it was happily ever after with white picket fences, children, dogs and cats.

Probably was. I'm the writer so I'm in charge here.


End file.
